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Mar 2018
My mother is a rose in a garden of violets
She forgets her beauty because she looks different
I tell her she’s beautiful
But she only hears she needs to lose weight
My mother’s once bright petals are wilting away
And becoming dust getting caught in the wind
Somehow she mistakes skinny for healthy
And fat with ugly
My mother is a dying rose in growing fields
The rain no longer growing her but stopping on her shrinking form
Her beauty is no longer seen outstanding in gardens
And her body no longer full of life
My mother is slowly disappearing to make room for the new generations of self hatred and low self esteem
Alessia
Written by
Alessia  13/F
(13/F)   
205
   laura-jessica and anna
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