Out of time, Full of beauty

When I was young

I always wondered

Why I never fit in.

Like a broken puzzle piece,

I just couldn't complete life's picture.

Because my choices

Were taken as sin, 

I never got a chance

To look within. 

So

Now I stand,

With myself, 

Hand in hand.

The past me in cargo shorts,

The future me in pencil skirts,

I stand transformed.

For what worth is this growth, 

If only to be given time.

Rushed like clock out of seconds,

I strive through the passing minutes.

But I live

I laugh

I love, 

In this passing time.

And I smile in the face of this ending.

But I know 

That it is just the beginning,

Of something Bright

Something new

And something different. 

For change is not soft,

like velvet dresses.

It tears and wears the hardest of hearts,

From stone to sand,

speeding past the hourglass. 

For I age with beauty,

A beauty so unconventional,

A beauty so foreign

A beauty without an age

For when I grow,

I blossom with time as my friend.

This poem is about: 
Me
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

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