The face
Of me
Is looking
At the face
Of me
In the face.
Yes, it's all clear to me now.
The eyes,
They reflect
A broken soul,
Deserted one,
Never knew real love.
The lips,
Stretched with a
Forced smile,
Can't hide the true pain,
Of miserable years.
The make up...
Oh, why did I ever put any make up on?
Ah, yes,
To hide the shame,
The bruise,
The truth.

And in front of me,
There's a mirror,
Showing every bit of real
On the masc-wearing face.
You couldn't have seen it all
Unless it was
Broken.