When I Look

People say that with my talents I have many gifts to share, But when I look in the mirror, I ask one question, "Where?" Looking in the mirror Reflects back eyes of shame. They're saying very clearly, "You have only yourself to blame." How could someone this evil Have something worthwhile to give? Sometimes, in fact, there's the question, "Do I even deserve to live?" As I again look in the mirror, It I want to deface, Or perhaps even better, Would be my image to erase. Replace it with innocence. Replace it with purity. If either of these was done, Maybe I'd have some security. I wish I could believe in myself As others believe in me. Then in a mental hospital, I probably would not be. The only time peace comes over me Is when I'm in my sleep, But often even at this time Does the negativity seep. I get left uneasy from the images I see. It makes me wonder what's true. However, it also brings the gifts out To give some possible clue. I'll just do my best with what I have. That's all anyone can ask. Maybe someday life will improve. Perhaps it is an attainable task.