The Perception

(Dedicated to my sweet Hanne)

The woman in the mirror
has an ordinary face
Not totally free of wrincles
but maybe worth a gaze
And though she doesn't know it
the other people see
a pretty worthy creature
who reflects eternity

A perception might be disorted
by the observer's eye
It depends on clear cut standards
or models, but then why?
Why should there be some people
who decide the basic rules?
Do they decide what's beautiful?
It's really kind of cruel

And so the pretty lady
with the mirror in her hand
lays the mirror down and leaves
She does not understand
why she cannot transform
and why she cannot be
what she would call a standard
What she would want to see