Category : Poems

Sub Category : N/A

Our perception of beauty has become flawed.
When house wives feel they are odd.
When normal people turn and hide.
Instead of standing up with pride.

When we only see the lines upon our face.
Not seeing that growing older is something to embrace.
We so clearly see each and every scar.
Not the memory of how we made it this far.

For every perfection we find a flaw.
Yet we rarely see our true reflection,
this person we truly are...

With every flaw.

© 2014 Dell Anne Raye
All Rights Reserved