God's Most Marvelous Creation

The reflection oppressed upon me

cannot comprehend what’s beneath

my faltered skin and battered complexion

or amount to my heart that beats

passionately for music and

the lines of my poetry.

It’s unfortunate that this looking glass

credits my appearance artificially.

I admire my gaunt structure

My overbite

My oversized shoes

I shall not be contrite

about my immense spectacles

My towering height

My body is a temple.

I shall not be contrite.

Underneath the mac eyeliner,

and Maybelline foundation,

I have learned to love

God’s most marvelous creation.

Appreciate your naked, bare soul

crafted from faults and mistakes

which blindly stumbled and bled

in attempts to find the way

to endless self-love,

and extreme veneration.

Treasure your pure body,

because we’re God’s marvelous creation. 

This poem is about: 
Me

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