Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Aug 22
.
When I looked in the mirror,
I saw an incomplete face.
A human formed so vague,
God forgot to give her a face.
Formed by the last lump of clay,
A human,incomplete in every possible way.
Yet, a chisel given as the last parting gift,
Ready to define my own face.

When I look in the mirror these days,
I see a different face.
Imperfect but proud,
Because I sculpted it.
Written by
Gunnika Mehra  16/F/India
(16/F/India)   
Please log in to view and add comments on poems