Perfect Her

Like a stain of wrong colored paint that will not wash away, 

She is the foul wart on her elbow.

Reeking of the blemish she cannot change, she cannot hide. 

She lives day by day with watchful eyes of the beating flesh, elegant legs, slim waist...

The magazines burn her through the heart,

Pleading with her to collapse like a wilting flower. 

 

I would acknowledge her natural beauty,

If only for an instant she would accept herself. 

But I cannot give her my steady glance,

If she remembers the ideal pretty none of us can be.

 

I would touch the lone tear under her eye,

If it meant she understood her rounding shape, curved thighs, full cheeks.

Her beauty, wart and all...

Is the perfect her if only she could see.

Comments

ABholley

I'm glad you liked what I had to say. We all just need to understand that even if we aren't perfect, we need to learn to accept our flaws and make them into beautiful qualtities. Some people may have too many freckles on their face or more weight than they want to have, but that doesn't mean they should let those things they don't like about themselves define who they are and allow society to control them. People need to embrace who they are because they are the way they are supposed to be. We may not like everything about ourselves, but the things we dislike are the qualities someone else may find quite beautiful. 

You are not just a face in a crowd. You may not realize it, but to somebody else you are the world to them. Remember that when your flaws decide to make you sad about the way you are, you are flawless, because God sees the wonderful child He has made.

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