I see myself. Thinking, so and so looks prettier But also thinking I look pretty. Looking in the mirror. Disliking my chubby waist, but in reality, At least I have food to eat. I'm fortunate for my life. Very. Another day, Looked in the mirror. My hair wasn't right: Brushed it. My thoughts, And suddenly a hand from the mirror drags me in into another reality. I now look at myself through a screen, Hearing my thoughts, now thinking, Was I that bad? and that question is not rhetorical, as for I was not bad, I was not ugly, my hair did look good, I was just too harsh on myself. So take a life lesson from this poem #1 don't be harsh #2 you are amazing #3 your pretty #4 be fortunate for what you have About this poem: Heyy so I made this poem lying down on my bed, feet up, ready ro go to my club which is soon. I saw a poem like this on Pinterest, I just adalted it ro make it mine. The only thing I copyed the storyline was of the hand dragging into the other reality. I don't remember what this poem was. If your the creator, I will give credits, I just don't know who it is. Thanks! XXX