Fri, 02/20/2015 - 19:58 -- rahma.a

With no filter, my face is pretty average,

My voice and hair are nothing to salvage.

I’m quiet and shy when around the unknown,

My soul and color and pride aren’t shown.

When I’m near the ones I care for most,

It’s then my true self is out amongst.

Through thick and thin, I rely on my others

Together with them, we help one another.

They tell me I’m pretty, boost me up,

They show me their love, filling my cup.

My confidence grows when I do what I love,

It weakens when I know I’m not good enough.

No filter, you say, but I say to heck,

Because I’m always empty from toe to neck.

I never show much courage when it’s just me,

Because I know with me, there’s not much to see.

I try though, anyway, to show what I can do,

Because giving up is not an option to choose.

Filters, I now know, are just a fake layers,

To cover the imperfections that conveyer,

Our darkest secrets that we hold dearest,

But secrets are whispers we hold nearest.

Near is not far when I have a hand,

And a hand is how I survive in our land.

Landing is hard, much difficult to master,

If you don’t go fast, then you need to go faster.

Drive down the road, figure out a plan.

Stick to it now, or improvise beforehand.

Choose to filter, or choose to not,

But whatever you do, just know you fought. 

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