"mirror, mirror on the wall
who's the fairest of them all"

i see my reflection

is it broken
i'm not pretty
my eyes are too narrow
my legs are too long
my stomach is too big from dinner
how could i possibly be fair

"mirror, mirror on the wall
who's the fairest of them all"
i repeat it
over and over
but the image remains
angry
i swing my fists
and along with the shattered pieces
my reflection falls to the floor

i slump to the ground
"why won't you work"
i cry
then i look at the mirrored fragments
my reflection no longer there

on a slim piece near my hand
there's a reflection of a young girl
she's moving but her eyes are closed
she travels using only four senses
she has lost the fifth
the young girl stumbles
and flails her arms
she cannot see
for she is blind

she would be grateful for a set of working eyes no matter how narrow

on a long piece near my knee
there's a reflection of a young man
he's in a moving wheelchair
when it stops
the young man lifts himself out
using only his hands
the young man has no legs
for he had just come home from war

he would be grateful for two legs no matter how long

on a wide piece near my hip
there's a child
a child whose skin is tight around his bones
no meat to keep him warm
for he hasn't eaten in days
weeks
maybe months

that boy would **** to have his stomach big from dinner

unprivileged persons litter on the shattered pieces
blindness
starvation
deafness
illness
disorders
it's there
it's real

i piece back the mirror and seal the cracks with glue
'mirror, mirror on the wall
who's the fairest of the all"
i ask again
when i see myself
i nod

for i am privileged
i am grateful
i am fair