Reflections

The abstract figures,
The foggy shapes,
They form the picture
Of my disfigured up face.

The mirror on my wall,
It only tells lies,
Just judging me,
What's wrong, what's right.

I've never once made,
The picture-perfect smile,
People stare, amazed,
They don't know the pain inside.

They try to move around it,
Try to hide their shame,
Of being seen with me,
But it's always me to blame.

Even all the help,
Doesn't make it go away,
I will always be broken,
Just a shattered person on display.