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Once there was a girl.
She felt so alone and empty inside.
No one told her she was pretty
And no one would lie
So she would sit in her room
And stare at the mirror
Telling herself over and over
“Yes I am pretty
Inside and out.
No one would tell me
Because they were jealous.”
She sat in her room
for hundreds of years
telling herself the same thing
over and over again
til the words became ash
and didn’t mean a thing.
Maybe that was her punishment
For being so vain.