All the Flaws


It's all the flaws that make us all unique.

Though I am not, and never will be,

the size of mannequins at the boutique.


Even with all of my "flaws", they would say,

my nose, my ears, my feet,

but as I've grown, I've been doing quite okay.


No i may not be the shiniest metal, 

not to him, nor to her, 

but to my loved ones I am always the rosiest petal.


To those who don't, who won't or cannot see this, 

they will never know the joys, 

of all the flawless-ness they've missed. 

This poem is about: 


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