Trapped

Behind four walls
and barred windows,
she finds herself trapped
once more.

Beyond a wooden door,
She sits in her bedroom
wondering if she'll ever
see the light again. she
thinks to herself & wonders
if anyone cares for her..

In her own little world
she wishes there was
something more to her
than her appearance.
she sees herself in the
mirror but doesn't like
the way she looks and
wishes she could make
changes to make her
feel more beautiful .

She feels grossed out by
her appearance and breaks
the mirrow with all her might
screaming and crying at the
same time asking her self
why god has made her that
way and why couldn't she
just have a much better
appearance.

She locks herself away
from the outside world
not letting any one see
her. She pretends to be
asleep so no one will even
bare to talk to her no matter
how much they've loved her,
she wouldn't open herself to
them.

She cries herself to sleep
praying to god , begging him
to let her die. she's convinced
her life isn't worth anything
unless she changed her entire
appearance.
She doesn't seem
to notice that there might be
someone out there who's willing
to love her for who she really is
and doesn't expect her to change
for no one.

Okay. I can see this being great. Just a few critiques: You need to work on your punctuation. Add commas, or even periods in some places.

"Bare" in the fifth stanza should be Bear. Rawr!

Also, the word "appearance" seems overused to me, maybe add some variation? "The way she looks" or "What everybody sees."

I liked this, it just needs a little help. Keep writing, this has an excellent message regardless of the mistakes!

I beg to differ. This gives the impression that a girl locked herself away because of the ugliness she saw in the mirror. Such pain about the exterior appearance is quite common among young women. This is beautiful. Keep writing for the sake of writing and don't let other people judge wrongly to you.

Hi HelloKitty87,

It will be a blessing if any intelligent reader retains interest after the second line of this lumbering behemoth. All you're doing is bellyaching about a girl who has a lot of problems, and then you suddenly ambush the reader at the end with a promise of butterflies and sunshine.

What?

The conflict isn't even relatable to any audience, unless this was meant for pretentious emo stoners. Yes, we get that she has issues. There must be a way that you can make this story universal without having it be preachy - a way that you can elicit sympathy for the main character and not scorn at her self-indulgence of loathing. The way to do this is to cut this down to size and keep in your palms only one or two images to begin with; unravel them in a tapestry so that even though the theme and setting spirals off into the sky, it knows that its feet are firmly planted on the ground below so it will not lose its way (and therefore, neither will the reader's interest or belief that you're doing something besides whining).

Hope that helped,
Galerius