Broken mirrors.

She woke,
the first thing she saw was herself,
she took a good look.

She noticed something,
something lethal,
a lethal crack.

One small crack on the mirror,
one small crack on the mirror of her house of mirrors,
that mirror gave her the creeps,
that mirror gave her the shivers.

There was a vibration,
the crack spread,
all the mirrors were breaking,
her house was breaking,
how could the house be strong without the foundation.

She built her house this way,
she loved to look at her self through out the day,
she was a pretty maiden,
just a pretty maiden with nothing underneath,
this was the same with her house,
the house of mirrors.

Her house was breaking,
with proper floor to stand,
no shelter between her and the world,
the thin air,
the world saw this,
she was exposed.

Those shards of glass,
her house broke down so fast.

She stood there,
stood there standing cold and ashamed,
she was in pain,
this hurt her vain,
she realised something very important,
beauty is nothing without personality and brain.

Picture from the net -
( http://www.google.co.in/imgres?imgurl=http://www.martinfrost.ws/htmlfiles/oct2006/autism02.jpg&imgrefurl=http://www.martinfrost.ws/htmlfiles/oct2006/broken_mirrors.html&usg=__7x7Pe_5nsrMWJposWK0AEoWiltc=&h=240&w=368&sz=20&hl=en&start=4&um=1&itbs=1&tbnid=z3LmhdJDnhtkrM:&tbnh=80&tbnw=122&prev=/images%3Fq%3Dbroken%2Bmirrors%26um%3D1%26hl%3Den%26client%3Dfirefox-a%26rls%3Dorg.mozilla:en-GB:official%26tbs%3Disch:1 )