Mirror, mirror on the wall,
I have never trusted you
At all!

Beauty lies beyond
Having a flawless body and face,
But your reflection dictates
That the beautiful, imperfect person
That is staring at you,
Is out of place.

Mirror, mirror on the wall,
Why do you set people up
To fall?

There is more to life
Than having a perfect complexion,
There is more to life
Than trying to be "perfection!"

Mirror, mirror on the wall,
If you cannot be kind,
Or find anything nice to say...
Then please, do not speak
At all!

Why don't you tell that vulnerable,
Desperate person,
That's gazing into your guise,
That they don't need to try to fit-in -
Or be wearing a made-up disguise.

And why don't you tell
That poor aching soul,
That loving the skin that they were born in,
Should be their number-one goal!

Mirror, mirror on the wall,
Beauty is skin deep -
Don't you know anything...
At all!

By Lady R.F ©2016

A simple dust covered plastic mistletoe,
that stayed stapled above
the front door all year round
and a carton of Camel smokes wrapped
in red and green wrapping paper,
under the Christmas tree,
with a big silver "store bought" bow on it,
the tag said "Merry Christmas, FROM: SANTA"
is how I remember Christmas.

Ahh!! The Joy of Christmas
and no chestnuts roasting by an open fire.
We did have a real pine tree though.

My highlight of the holidays
was going down to the local VFW
and seeing a "Jolly Old Elf" with a fake beard,
he was really a fat, retired police officer.
But still Saint Nick to an eight year old boy.

You see that was the time when you got
out of the house.
When "he" started downing his
Christmas "spirits" and *******
down those cancer sticks.
The fumes were so thick at times,
I swore I was in LA ,
during rushhour on the 5.

After the frantically ripping open the presents,
us kids would dash off to our bedrooms.
Taking one or two gifts with us,
we created our own
getaway world, our own Christmas of Joy.

Then.

It began.

With voices raised,
even the mice scurried away.
I would wrap the pillows over my ears
and I would pray for peace on earth
and good will toward men.

Ghosts of my Christmas past
still seep into my memory at times
and
they haunt me till this day.

Do not assumed I can wait
This journey is always
Through the next gate
Oh it goes on
Unlike a dying storm
Life is the last to calm

Should we throw our hands in
Re-deal the stack of chance
It'd still be my lyrics
In an entirely different dance

Shall we play the cards forgotten
Or leave fate up our sleeves
The game is never over
Surely I'm that naive
...