Roses and Sunflowers
roses don't look like sunflowers
yet I think both are beautiful when I see them
so why am I mean to myself
because I look different from them
why can't I call myself beautiful as easily as I can to them
why do I talk to myself so harshly when I have the ability to grow
at the end of the day I lay alone
if I treated myself as good as I treat others
i'd grow as beautiful as a flower is
and it's exhausting knowing exactly what I need to do to love myself
but feeling unable to actually do it
This poem is about:
Me
Our world
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: