Learn more about other poetry terms
There is a reflection looking back at her in the mirror,what she see's isn't really how she is supposed to appear.Perfectly imperfect from ear to ear,every single line and wrinkle tells a story some with tears.
Oh America, I love to call you mine. If I had the courage I would fight for this land. I feel useless compared to those who give everything for this land. For this land, I shall become the best person I can be.
-To be perfectly honest, I believe every part of our life and lives are “awesome.” Not awesome in the modern usage, to say, “Hey, that’s awesome!”
the day i first met him i turned to stone. my eyes seemed to fog over when he passed by me and my normally nonstop lips fused together. he seemed to fit so perfectly to me like a lego in my lap but
Flawed. I'm flawed. Without filters, society calls me flawed. It's true, I'm flawed. But what's it to society? Everything has flaws. My face occasionally blemished.
Money, I have none
Maturity can be seen in many opportunities. Staying classy with an attitude of nasty. Showing off my curves and edges, letting everyone know i have imperfections. Flashy ring and fancy cars may not be in my future. but atleast im not tortured.
I'd rather my mirror speak truth than lies When a reflection meets my eyes Rather be an elder at my final hour Than a newly sprouted flower Better to be tattered and worn Than word left unsworn
Flawless is born in my thighs that stretch wide and thick
Flawless is not something that someone can be Each and every one of us is flawed Including myself I look in the mirror and I see nothing amazing I don't do everything perfectly
Rape. It led to my silence. For a year I let what happened control me, let HIM control me. Fear. I was scared.
My hairs a mess I don't even distress of how I dress my leggings are all worn people are going to know it's all torn
Pretty face, long hair. Skinny waist, the clothes I wear. Everything must be Perfect. Flawless. The way I walk, the way I drink. The way I talk, the way I think.
An artist at heart can be the windAlthough people cannot see the strands of a breezeThe soft blows can still be felt against one's skin
I. Am. Flawless. Maybe not to you, or him or her but to me. I. Am. Flawless. I dance my heart out,
People say to be gansta you got to have a sick cut To be cool your quiff game must be on spot Society strives for sprayed on abs and butts that are just too big Well my body might not be perfect
Every girl dreams of the perfect life, Getting paid to smile or being a trophy wife. I think we want it easy, but that is not our call, We want to erase any chance that we may fall.
I shook and dissolved into beams of pride and pain as Neiel Israel spoke the line into existence; “Every day a black man walks He is like Jesus,
Where is the exact point when you find happiness? When you finally know your self-worth? When you love yourself? The tears, the hardships, the harsh comments
A small city with big dreams Nothing but opportunity
Flawless, a word for gemstones a word for little else imperfect perfect I think those words should be flipped I am not flawless I have freckles I have stretch marks
Bitten nails cracked knuckles, scars that scream "no!" Grinding teeth unman'ged hair, hunched back that cries "go..." Dry skin "shy" demeanor,
Society trying to mislead me Make me something I’m not Or are they Trying to rip The veil In front of my blind eyes To reveal What I have yet To see
Free spirit is my trait I value the most.
I was always told to dress the part so I put on my costume. A white collared shirt, A skirt to my knees And a mask of a forced smile Along with a face covered in pounds of makeup,
I let the chills take over The feeling of being unwanted A storm raining on my parade For my feelings came crashing down Raining confessions Of how I was truly feeling about my imperfections
Afraid it will come back Up like a shadow Up like his smoke Rolling in with the tide Even when I hide I'm afraid it will find me I'm afraid I'm still to week to fight Because I remember how