Sammota's poem

My old friend, long since living in Tanzania was a friend of living. "You are flawless" she crooned. "Trust me, I know." Her words were colored with wisdom, her tone like the voice of the people. Tingling into my fingers, permeating my heart but still her words could not be heard. I was deaf. positivity and love was silence While criticism was an unmistakable whimper. Sometimes, Even the loudest pleas can be silent collide and grow and multiply and defeat the sound of positivity Incessant chatter flourshing in the room simply could not be ignored My curly blonde hair, My love of love every flaw and facet Makes up a beautiful diamond me. And you. You are flawless. Trust me I know.