It is something I will always remember.
The low rumble of her laugh while she’s talking,
The effort to contain
the excitement in her voice,
The sheer joy evident
through her dark-lined eyes,
almost disappearing to a slit.
She’s a work of art, really.
She can smile with her eyes.
A beauty yet to be discovered by many
for it is hidden
behind all the society’s preferences
of what beauty is
or should be.
Better that way for hers is
an unconventional beauty.
The kind that can only be
seen and described by poetry.
The kind that doesn’t have to
be known by the world
But should be.
It is true.
That in places people tend to not look,
There is beauty.
This poem is for a friend of mine who was constantly bullied. This is also for those who feel like they are not enough. You are a work of art. You are special, beautiful, and there is no one like you. Don’t let others tell you otherwise. Most importantly, don’t let yourself tell you otherwise.