Funhouse

This poem is about my self esteem issues. Poetry helps me feel better.

When Iook in the mirror

it feels like a gunhouse

at the carnival.

 

Everything just

looks wrong. Nothing

is how it should be.

 

Eyes too small.

Face too big.

Body too wide.

 

Everything is wrong.

Nothing looks right.

It's a never-ending nightmare.

 

A glance in the mirror

takes me to the

funhouse at the carnival.

 

I hate the funhouse.

It's a never-ending nightmare.

I cant't escape.