Sometimes I can't stand the unbearable feeling of waking up and taking a look in the mirror.
It tells my story, tells my truths.
Screaming at me that I will never be truly beautiful.
The others around me seem apparent and use to the perfection around them and the perfection they hold.
It's a depressing thought to never be called something beautiful.
To be an ugly perfection.

But maybe it's not my mirror, but in fact the lies.
Maybe the mirror has disguised the internal beauty hidden inside,
Just waiting to bloom.

I look to the heavens as my thoughts create a chaos inside.
And incidentally I find a new mirror.
The sky is filled with clouds adorning the creative beauty.
But the remarkable thing isn't the beauty that the heavens hold,
But in fact the one who holds the sky.

You see, the sky and I have been made by the same Creator.
A Creator who has created beauty in everything.
Could it be that His glorious creation,
Could instead be my mirror?
And my ugly perfection,
Has turned into a beautiful perfection.