The mirror lied,
Her hips were not that wide,
Her thighs were not that thick,
This is what her reflection would spit,
The curse of the broken girl,
Relying on her reflection to make her look 'well',
How sad she must be,
The only thing telling her how bad she must be,
Is an object,
Made of glass,
Stuck to the wall,
The least trustworthy object of all.