I used to make wishes come bedtime.
To wake up beautiful in the morning.
The disappointment of wishes not granted.
Of looking in the mirror, plainness still there.
I am not beautiful or pretty.
The mirror doesn’t lie, I see plainness.
Next to my cousins, I feel like a frump.
Petite and lovely I will never be.
Growing pains throughout my teen years.
Gangly, uncoordinated and shy.
Not only was I not pretty,
I was mistaken of being a boy.
Social functions were to be dreaded.
The uncountable times I have blushed.
A teenager trying to blend in with the wall.
Better to be a wallflower then to be embarrassed.
I do have positive traits in me.
To name two, hardworking and organized.
Persons I meet for the first time,
sometimes pass me over as boring.
We don’t get to choose our gifts.
Each of us is unique, as is the gift.
We look at another’s gift with envy.
Wondering why we were overlooked.
Now, looking in the mirror I see character.
My gift is not of beauty, it is of strength.
Strangers will never see my beauty,
The vanity in me regrets, after all I am a woman.
By C.E. Pereira
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