mirror, mirror

Mirror, mirror, on the wall,
Who is the fairest of us all?
Distorted image you paint before my eyes,
In my sight, nothing but lies.
I sicken myself as my mind looks back on reflection,
Pictures and words of so-called perfection.
They've warped our minds and consumed us one, by one.
We do anything and everthing that could possibly be done,
To "perfect" our bodies, regardless of pain.
And yet to be so vain,
that it becomes against ourselves a competition.
And hopelessly in our own minds, we never reach "perfection."