I walk the halls among 3,000 students flaunting my hazel colored hair. 

Hidden in the shadows as if I magically disappeared. 
Whispering in darkness, but soon the light became my home. 
No more being self conscious, no more being alone.
I started loving myself, and taking pride in what I do.
Because loving yourself is harder than you think. 
Any woman will tell you it's true.
And my stretch marks don't define me but they tell me I've grown up.
My height still remains short, but that doesn't mean I gave up.
I indulged my beauty.
And make my ego show.
I flaunt what I have, because it's beautiful.
That beauty mark next to my ear, is a remarkable feature I have.
I used to despise it, but now it's something I rejoice in fact.
And I cannot count my flaws on only one hand. 
But now I can call myself flawless without lying and feeling bad.
Self admiration is something that this generation lacks, but hopefully this poem you read intentionally gives it back.
-Yesenia Y. Cooke
Guide that inspired this poem: 
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 


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