The cold eyes of a mirror stare back at me
The eyes of the temptress, vanity
Elated and cool,
Excited for school,
Engulfed in fashionable insanity.

A bag of treasures lies at my feet
A bag of pricetags with a long receipt
T-shirts and jeans,
Belts and new things,
I'm victim of my own pretty deceit.

I pick up a shirt and stick in my arm
A new pair of jeans, a necklace for charm
Spinning in place,
I pick up the pace,
My expression a cause for alarm.

Absorbed in myself, I see only me
In form-fitting shirt and faded blue jeans
Striking a pose,
I forget my old clothes,
As I laugh in my air-headed glee.

(this was written by someone named "kt8" on allpoetry.com)

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