Sun, 01/25/2015 - 10:22 -- Xzanada


United States

Staring in the mirror as I wipe away the day.
Cold, alone, and vulnerable.
Looking at the real me as the mask fades away.
Scared, beaten, and longing.

Beauty is in the eye of the beholder they say.
Unsure, shaken, and hoping.
After years of disbelief I find that beauty has come to play.
Loving, caring, and raw.

Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 


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