Man in the Mirror

As I stand here, I examine the image in the mirror

I see a young man with brown skin

A face that has finally begun to fill out

I see long black braided hair

a slender frame with hips and curves

I turn to the side

I notice a larger backside than ever before

Back to the front

glasses showing signs of age

over light brown eyes

Looking down

I see a slender figure

the slightest sign of gained weight in the abdomen

skinny legs and feet

To some this form is appealing

to me it's appalling

Too skinny, with only a little weight in the wrong place

Glasses are old, ugly, outdated

the eyes are nothing special

the backside is misleading

I feel like a tool, a plaything

something easily discarded

I see nothing to hold anyone here

There is no real appeal

only superficial qualities

Beneath the skin lies an insecure boy

one screaming out for love

he hates everything about himself

his looks, his persona, his life

he wonders why nothing lasts

Why is he only an object of lust?

never an object of true love

would he even know true love if it came to him?

Does true love exist?

Or is it a figment of human imagination?

Looking at the man in the mirror, i see nothing impressive

I feel I've been lied to

I've been told I'm attractive, cute

even sexy

I see nothing of the sort

I see plain, ordinary, boring

The man in the mirror might as well be invisible