Peter got his very own egg. His had a package of skittles.
Lizzy got her very own egg. Hers had two rolling dice.
Sarah got her very own egg. Hers had a book of riddles.
Landon got his very own egg. His had bean-bags with rice.
Kathy got her very own egg. Hers had a mini clown.
Henry got his very own egg. His had a lock and key
I got my very own egg, and I was jumping up and down
As this was my first egg that was given just for me.
I had reached the age of ten, so now I was allowed
To have my own egg this easter, and boy was I proud.
I took my egg, I tore it open, and what was inside?
What was inside was suddenly something I wanted to hide...
"What's inside?" Asked Peter and Lizzy.
"What'd you get?" Asked Sarah and Landon.
"Is it candy?" Poked Kathy and Henry.
And I ran away, because nothing is a hard companion.
Nothing. My egg had nothing. I tried to let it go...
It really should've been easier as the months went all too slow...
But nothing, good old nothing: It stayed and seemed to grow...
And nothing's now my only friend, and because I made it so.

I look in the water,
An image staring back at me.
It seems the image knows me better than
I know myself.
I don't know identity,
Just hide it.
No one knows I can't know myself,
They see who I let them see.
"Trust me," the mirror says,
"You'll be… more real."
But I know the mirror
Is just me, but a reflection.
Except
A clean reflection.
Me as I was born, as I will die,
An exact me.
Except
I wish this water would
Show me solutions and not the problem.
But
No one needs to know I looked in the water,
They'll never see what I saw.
The mirror,
It's just for me, it's all my choice.
But
I can't forget I am not who I think.
I can hardly know my deepest self.
The mirror knows:
I am not myself. I am the reflection.

Now once revived in bed I lay to sleep,
Now once revived from bed to life so steep.
Then many changes found in like came seen,
Then many changes pierced my skin so keen.

To see the world in eyes of colored pen,
For blind are but the eyes of alien,
Do **** the future in reality,
And do not look on past as fallen tree.

Then magnet comes and mind goes through all hell,
And grasping then I feel my opposite:
My brain, my heart, not human I could tell.

Now calculation builds the blocks of mind,
And life and death consuming all I knew,
My world in this new body I must find.

It wasn't that bad, that trip to the ER,
And my sickness didn't leave a physical scar,
But I must admit I got carried away
While making that soup one fine winter day.
See, my friend went and dared me to make the stuff,
And to this day it could've been a bluff,
But when I am dared, it's a serious matter,
So I started to whip up a little bit of batter.
Right into the fridge, my hands were busy,
Making that soup really got me dizzy.
A fish head, salsa, old dried beans,
Mustard, spinach, and coffee creams.
That glop must have boiled for hours and hours,
And that kitchen, I swear, it needed a shower.
At any rate, I don't yet feel regret,
But I'll tell you right now, the key word is yet,
Because I still have a big medical issue,
And on top of that, no social life, too,
But the occasional heart attack won't make me droop,
Because I loved making and eating that soup.

Beauty standards!! I wonder who comes up with those,.. society?? But we are the society.. why do we come up with things against ourselves?
Making women and men feel bad about themselves just to advertise products.
Telling them,they are not good enough and will continue to be not good enough until they use that which is being sold.
Its sad really.. our insecurities are their adverts,. Whats sad is they give the solution but it leaves our minds the same,immediately after "fixing" the "defect" we look for another one..
The best solution is to know that true beauty is skindeep and judging people by outward appearance is not fair.