The mirror hangs on the walls of hope

Hope of a pretty face

Hope of a mask that hides the truth

A picture of perfect grace



But the mirror does naught but show true skin

A pimple here, a scar there

It is us who try to obscure our flaws

And build a sheath of beauty so fair



Some trust the mirror to trust themselves

When they say that they hold no lies

But what can mere countenance prove?

The vanity of pride, or the betrayal of guise?



Alas! The mirror shows only a face

The glow of a soul it sweetly hides

Our reflection is what our faces say

Not the true beauty of our inside