When I look into the looking glass, I see what is meant to be me: A daughter, a friend, a sister Who listens with proclivity. But what I see is none of these, But something terrifying. And death of horror would come If within was shown without. Through the perspective of my looking glass I see; That just as the tears of heaven fall to the earth The droplets of fear are released Into an eternal ocean of remembrance, And a torment filled heart is eased At the mercy of anger. And as the petals of a rose close after its reign, The lips of a human are sealed, Forever holding back the strife of The looking glass.