Look into the mirror;
Tell me what do you see?
I always saw ugliness:
I wished that wasn’t me.
To look at others wasn’t as hard.
They always seemed so pretty.
In fashion clothes, they’d always tend,
To look at me in pity.
I wondered what did they see.
Was it like in stories of old?
A wicked witch?, An Ugly Troll?
An Ogre? Beast? Did they behold?
So then I asked my children,
To tell me what they saw.
They told me they see their mummy.
Whom they love to the very core.
So i may not be Cinderella.
Sleeping Beauty or Snow White.
I’m more important to them than anyone.
When i kiss them and tell them Goodnight.