Woman In The Mirror Poem by Adookorn Auaduma

You sit at the threshold
of good looking and flex
your glamour

Be warn,

the cancaworm of wantoness
eats the flame of show door
and permit bugs into the room

You sit at the door sill of pale look,
and frown at your fugly cast; ; perfect
your kind act, align with moral correctitude,

Do not mourn--

a crust in one's eye
is a diadem in another's eye,

I hate,
I despise a rosy cheek,
don't value a starry eye-- in anger

with coral figure that lacks flare
to kindle her ember

But a kind heart, loyal and virtuous--
with her I share my nest.