Let me tell you a story about accepting the truth –
Reflection and realization are the only proof.
It started with an addiction to prescription,
A beautiful mother of two meets this description,
What’s the difference?
What was anyone to know?
What was anyone to know?
She never smoked, inhaled vapors up her nose,
But her sons knew immediately about her craving.
Easy to tell by the way she was behaving –
She would sleepwalk, cry in her bed,
Yell crazy talk at invisible men.
Always had a shaky stance, unsteady thumbs,
She would beat her sons, forget to feed her sons.
She was a different person, alive… but barely.
She rose in the morning, tired and weary,
At times it would get scary,
She would pass out, not wake up for hours.
Her heart stopped when she was in the shower.
All the time she didn’t notice any problem…
Turned a blind eye when her boyfriend robbed them…
She would have many boyfriends, most were abusive,
They would sleep with her even if she refused it.
She took drugs and cried in the bathroom stall,
She didn’t want her sons to see she was a helpless doll.
The hazy writing on the wall,
Scrawled in blood after she overdosed in the same bathroom stall,
All she could do was crawl.
Trapped within a jurisdiction built from her own addictions,
She could barely see past her terrifying afflictions,
A beautiful mother of two meets this description.
The situation got worse; she applied for a new career.
She left for the night, came back with ribbon in her hair.
Her two sons waited alone in the home,
When she came back late smelling like cologne,
Their mommy was a prostitute, it broke their little hearts.
They had to put a stop to the cart before she rips herself apart.
They held a mirror to her face, her two sons,
Said “Mommy, take a look at what you’ve become.”
Seeing a disgruntled woman with purple lipstick,
The hollow hole in her heart ripped thick.
She dropped to her knees in a great burst of pain.
Experienced an ocean of hurt, emotionally drained.
Mirror, Mirror.
Introspection, reflection,
Denial, and deflection,
We all need a little direction.
Turn that vision inner.
What will be the trigger?
Mirror, mirror.
Mirror x2 (The Sequel to "Mirror Mirror")
Painfully written by Thorne J. McFarlane (alias: Fatal Dawn)
Reflection and realization are the only proof.
It started with an addiction to prescription,
A beautiful mother of two meets this description,
What’s the difference?
What was anyone to know?
What was anyone to know?
She never smoked, inhaled vapors up her nose,
But her sons knew immediately about her craving.
Easy to tell by the way she was behaving –
She would sleepwalk, cry in her bed,
Yell crazy talk at invisible men.
Always had a shaky stance, unsteady thumbs,
She would beat her sons, forget to feed her sons.
She was a different person, alive… but barely.
She rose in the morning, tired and weary,
At times it would get scary,
She would pass out, not wake up for hours.
Her heart stopped when she was in the shower.
All the time she didn’t notice any problem…
Turned a blind eye when her boyfriend robbed them…
She would have many boyfriends, most were abusive,
They would sleep with her even if she refused it.
She took drugs and cried in the bathroom stall,
She didn’t want her sons to see she was a helpless doll.
The hazy writing on the wall,
Scrawled in blood after she overdosed in the same bathroom stall,
All she could do was crawl.
Trapped within a jurisdiction built from her own addictions,
She could barely see past her terrifying afflictions,
A beautiful mother of two meets this description.
The situation got worse; she applied for a new career.
She left for the night, came back with ribbon in her hair.
Her two sons waited alone in the home,
When she came back late smelling like cologne,
Their mommy was a prostitute, it broke their little hearts.
They had to put a stop to the cart before she rips herself apart.
They held a mirror to her face, her two sons,
Said “Mommy, take a look at what you’ve become.”
Seeing a disgruntled woman with purple lipstick,
The hollow hole in her heart ripped thick.
She dropped to her knees in a great burst of pain.
Experienced an ocean of hurt, emotionally drained.
Mirror, Mirror.
Introspection, reflection,
Denial, and deflection,
We all need a little direction.
Turn that vision inner.
What will be the trigger?
Mirror, mirror.
Mirror x2 (The Sequel to "Mirror Mirror")
Painfully written by Thorne J. McFarlane (alias: Fatal Dawn)
