‘Mirror, mirror on the wall,
Who’s the fairest of them all?’
The longer she spends staring at her reflection,
The more she knows her looks need some action.
Her face isn’t pretty; at least she is tall.
Yet a nose like this won’t make her belle of the ball.
Full of self-loathing and full of rejection,
She can’t see the beauty that holds others in thrall.
What the mirror says is met with objection:
Just look at her bust, it is woefully small;
Her forehead could do with another injection.
She needs a plastic surgeon at her beck and call.