I have heard the tales of demons living within,

The tales of superstition 

And bad fortune


Yet, I saw none

As I gazed at my reflection in the 

Infamous looking glass in the store window


It probed and pricked at my imperfections,

While I stood in silent agreement,

Waiting for her to tell me I was good enough.


She never did.


I returned years later,

Yet, she offered the same judgment 


I turned,

Only to see a crack in her exterior,

Yet, she remained shiny and flawless


I decided then,


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allets's picture

When I walk

I creak but at least I'm walkin' :D ~A~