Mirror mirror on the wall
Why the hell am I so tall?
Or why the hell are you so low
That I've to double up, to settle my brow?
When I look at you straight , I see my knees.
I can admire my shoes with consummate ease.
On them shoe polish I can easily anoint.
But that, my mirror, isn't your point.
To see my face I have to lift you.
But you are heavy and I have but two
Hands, which, when thus employed
Can't settle my hair, leaving me annoyed.
So dear mirror, since you are low
You certainly have to go.