There she stands: a book in one hand, a pen

in another

Torn between experiencing and creating an


Either fanciful and enchanting, but one must

be chosen

Which will tantalize more, which grants more hope

for grandeur?

Her fingers, covered in ink, nails chewed down,

slide down the page

Her hand now cradles her chin, tracing circles on

the freckled cheek

Down a rounded nose peer light blue eyes, taking in

the world

She gives nothing away, hides her face in her hair

the waves

Her laughter breaks the silence, each note a

tender sound

The mirror tells nothing, gives nothing! but

tired eyes

Her answer lies in herself, growing stronger

every day

To choose the path or have the path choose


Perhaps she needs another mirror

A/N: look carefully at the formatting, it was done for a reason. Done for a school assignment. We had to describe ourselves.