Understanding My Face

O beauty, stain my childhood.
Violate my young mind
with the unobtainable feats
that no girl can reach,
yet she will always die trying.
In youth, I never knew
My features are carried from
a family torn by war
and destruction.
Mixing those with ancient
generations
Of people who voyaged on the Mayflower
and settled my beautiful nation,
Are what created
my face.
God and all forces
brought every piece of history
together
to give me golden skin,
hair that is too straight
for the world,
and dark eyes
that illuminate
like stars.
To tell my child self
that I am exquisite
is all I want.

This poem is about: 
Me
My country
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

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