Be-U-Tiful

"Beautiful you are my child."

Those were once my mother's favorite words.

When this brown skined girl was nothing to nobody, I was something to her.

It was never a thing of her being pretty. If her clothes didnt match my looks, I wasn't flawless.

As I look in the mirror, I see beautiful brown eyes, full lips, smooth brown skin, and oh what a gorgeous smile.

You coudn't tell me how beautiful I was several year ago.

I didn't have the perfect clothes or that size two body.

I wasn't what the boys wanted. I was outcast and my hair got cut in class.

I lost all since of who I am. Time passed and look at me now.

Shoulder legnth hair, with gorgeous eyes, smooth skin, and a pretty smile. But I will never be a size two.

It doesn't matter if I had short hair or long hair, a size two or seventeen, brown or black eyes, whether I had nice clothes or not: I was still me.

I AM BEAUTIFUL.

So BE-U-TIFUL!

This poem is about: 
Me
My family

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