Mirror, mirror on the wall,
Do I see myself at all?
Why’s this beard so thick and vast
In my image that you cast?
Why’s there so much body hair?
And the breasts that I should bear?
And these arms so far from slender?
Where’s the sight of my true gender?
Mirror, mirror on the wall,
What I’ve seen has made me crawl.
All I wish you’d show to me
Is the woman I can’t see.
Not the fairest of them all,
For whom anyone would fall,
Nor a pretty one, indeed.
Just a woman’s all I plead.
Mirror, mirror on the wall,
I can’t blame you, after all.
You’re a physical device
Meant to show what’s in their eyes.
Mirror, mirror on the wall.
You can’t hear me as I call.
But I’ll ask you anyway:
Will you show myself one day?
– Lady Scarecrow
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