Oh! Corrector Mirror on the Wall?

Did mirrors ruin our world?
Or merely persuade us
to resurface 
as our mirrored selves?

Before mirrors
there were only still ponds,
waiting for the wind
to stop speaking.

A face appeared
looking upon itself,
then drifting away.
The breeze was kind;
it never let 
the face linger for so long.

Polished obsidian came,
then bronze, 
then silvered glass.
Each one promised
a sharper truth
of self—plain and simple.

Mirrors decked our halls
revealed in bathrooms;
handhelds to look behind;
little compact ones; 
to put makeup on.

The mirror created
more than a reflection.
It quietly invented
comparisons—
with yesterday
with others.
Impossible without
first seeing
self—plain and simple.

Narcissus bent low,
believing he had found love.
Instead, he embraced
an image.

"Mirror, mirror on the wall..."
never flattered.
The Queen hated
the answer, 
hated the looking glass.

Alice stepped into
to another world
through her looking-glass.

Later came 
the age of the selfie
staring back from every 
wondrous place,
only to be upstaged—
by that face—
in front.
Oh yes...... That face!

We look in mirrors
less as we get older!
with less selfies 
looking back as well.

Then came the Corrector.
The mirror asked
"What shall we improve today?"
Lighten the hair,
Soften a few wrinkles
Ease the furrows on the brow,
Touch-up the scars
Remove the crow's feet
Reshape those lips a little?
Anything else?

The question now is:
"Who am I?" 
"Who do I see there?"
in the mirror
which asks
"Which version now?"

"Oh! Corrector Mirror 
on the Wall,
who's the fairest 
version of all?"
"In the Corrector Mirror on the Wall!"