When I looked in the mirror,
I saw an incomplete face.
A human formed so vague,
God forgot to give her a face.
Formed by the last lump of clay,
A human,incomplete in every possible way.
Yet, a chisel given as the last parting gift,
Ready to define my own face.

When I look in the mirror these days,
I see a different face.
Imperfect but proud,
Because I sculpted it.