A photo prompt from Magpie Tales
She’s there
A little girl
Her mother’s bedroom,
Shiny hair, long sweeping strokes,
A stiff bristled hairbrush
She cries.
She’s there again
A little older and wiser
About getting it right
About getting it wrong
And he was so wrong.
But she knew best.
She’s still there
Not sure where to look anymore.
She pretends to know
But she fools no-one
Not even herself
Mirror, mirror on the wall
Where went the girl that knew it all?
