Mirror, mirror on the wall,
certainly I am the fairest of them all.
My raven hair and doe-like eyes,
are matched only with my brain, for I am wise.

The crown upon my head is lustrous with power,
reigning high above hilltop and tower.
I am just; I am fair.
I’m a gem; I’m so rare.

My smile melts thousands,
my laugh elicits offers for future husbands.
My attire so stylish and grand,
one might think they have drifted into dreamland.

So I ask you, dear mirror, who is this young twit,
whom you claim can sing and dance better than I, that little misfit.
Oh, please excuse my language, but you must be mistaken.
Your words, I confess, have left me quite shaken.

It is as though there has been a terrible switch,
but don’t worry; I have thought of a remedy for this glitch.
All I need is her heart, but if that doesn’t succeed
an apple is what to her I will feed.

Then this wonderful world will be back in order
with this little incident remaining only a blur.
For, mirror, I am truly the fairest of them all;
try to tell me differently, and be plagued by my gall.