Mirror, mirror on the floor,
Who is the one I should adore?
I love me, but I see there’s more
than me – oh my, there’s four?
Why is it when I spin and twirl,
I am no longer just one girl?
Not all of me shows in the mirror’s swirl.
The dark sides hide; they do not unfurl.
Obsessed by mirrors, I turn and twist.
I fear to stop, I’ll need an exorcist.
Tho’ answers exist, my questions persist.
The mirror is a catechist.