In a room with nothing but mirrors, sits a women.

No way out, nothing to see but the images around her.

She stares into them all, wanting to know, which image is her,

but they all seem the same, all but one, the image that stares back from this mirror, is the one deep within her self.

She's carried this unwanted image through her life,

never wanting to see it look back, as she stares into the miorror of herself.

One image is of a women whom is strong, another who is controling, one whom is angry, and one without emotions, and another whom will not touch or feel.

But the one one she fears the most, is the one that hosts them all.

It's the image of her prison, it's the image of her darkness, the image of her passings, all her todays, and her tommorrows, never to allow the real image with in her be seen in her room of mirrors.

As the women sits in this room of images, she remembers a little girl, happy, free, loving and caring, not knowing of darkness and pain.

Always trusting never knowing of change.

This is the mirrored image she keeps deep inside, this is the image the others hide.

So she sits in her prison of mirrors hopeing no one will see,

The image of the person that is me.