Taking the strings, loving the strands,
of the marionettes carved by your hand...

I know this isn't quite a sad poem, but it is to...
You walk alone down the hallway...

Inside the mirror
I'm hidden fast...

Where can I go,
when I want to spread wings and fly away...

I don't understand why you find it funny that I...
And how you can laugh at me when I trip and fall...

Before I died I prayed last night
prayed to God I'd win my fight...

Why is it that I sit and cry
as I watch the days go by...

Once when I fell, you gave me you hand
Giving me reason to once again stand...

You gripped me hard by my arm,
but then, eased me deeper by your charm...

Mirror mirror on the wall
Reflecting back the images you see...