Reflection.

She looked at her image for the millionth time that morning,
She tried to search for something in it,
Something deeper,something different,
Newness,A change she hadn't noticed.
Nothing at all.
It was the same old Plane Jane staring back at her.
She saw flaws,Only flaws.
There was just so much wrong with her reflection,
Her hair was a mess,as usual.
Her face to worn  out.Eye bags.
A thousand silly,teenage thoughts raced through her head.
She wanted to be like all those other girls.
Almost Perfect.She knew they weren't perfect.
And it wasn't easy for them either.
But she'd Never,Ever be close to being a pretty face.
It wasn't so great a thing,she knew.
But sometimes,it got to her.
She'd never been called Pretty,
But she was Beautiful,
and deep down somewhere she knew it.
She  gripped onto the warm thought.
Her thoughts shifted now,
She tilted her head and gave a hint of a smile,
Then pulled a serious face,
Not taking her eyes off her reflection she wondered,
Why do we have to classify looks?
Why does it always have to work one way?
Why is it that only all the pretty girls have to be so important?
Why do girls have to be told they're pretty and still not believe it?
No one deserves to be called Ugly.
No one is ugly,actually.
It's all about the perspective.
If every girl would feel beautiful,
the way she is..
All flaws included.
Imagine how much more Happier they'd be,
The idea of beauty might have changed a lot
but Being Beautiful is knowing that you Are.
It's always been so.
No one can tell you're not.
She looked into the eyes in the mirror now,A strange new confidence
replacing the angst.