Sat, 02/13/2021 - 23:33 -- KAZ_218

What is beauty?  Is it what you see in the mirror,  Or what your body looks like,  Or maybe the makeup we wear,  Or the clothes we put on?    What is beauty?  Is it what you see when you look into your eyes,  Could it be your smile,  Your laughter,  Your care?    What is beauty?  Maybe it’s your personality,  The unique person you are,  The “out of the ordinary” picture you bear,  The paint stroke you make on the world?    I guess I’m confused.  Are these things really what defines out beauty?  Some may be good,  Some may be bad,   But do they truly define beauty?    I guess I don’t know.  Are you beautiful?  Is she beautiful?  Is he beautiful?    Am I... beautiful?    Is this how it works?  Is it an external acceptance?  A statement that another person makes?  A yes or no,  A right or wrong?    Is this how beauty is defined?  A cry of awe,  A crate of love,  A body of stares,  All made by other people.    But maybe,  Just maybe,  It's up to me?    Can I... be my own definition of beautiful?  Can it work that way?  Can I say that I’m beautiful just because I feel like I am?  Can I cry my own awe,  Create my own crate of love,  Feel free to look at myself in the mirror without fear?    Beautiful.    Why, what a wonderful word.  One that describes every inch of me,  One that can describe every inch of you.    Beautiful.    You are beautiful.  She is beautiful.  He is beautiful.  They are beautiful  I am beautiful.    I think I figured it out.  And I think,  You will too.


This poem is about: 
My family
Our world


Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741