The face tells a beautiful story,
A fantastical lie
That reflections care to ignore.
Fairytales decompose into cheap articles
On trampled newspapers.
Society screams, people shout,
The mirror stands tall,
Notices the unnoticeable,
Predicts the unpredictable,
Surmises hidden predicaments
And chooses to put a check
On reflections,
Only for those
Who are blinded by the sins
Of their deed,
The craving of their famished souls.
Some choose to see
The enthralling beauty
And set aside the rasping truth.
The rest become the mirror themselves
With their faces made of glass
And silver coating on their hearts,
To make sure that
The reflections never reach them.
Virtual Marionette 
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Nowadays one is dazzled by superficial things and they do not see what really matters as value for their soul. it is easy to fall into ease and not look inside.
I liked your poem. A very sharp reflection of life.
Manuel
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I’m glad that you liked it and you’re absolutely true. It is easier to get tricked by the outer appearance than to look deeper…
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So it is in reality. You are very right
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