I finally am being firmly convinced,
Of my beauty,
My amazement and joy,
From the greetings of mirrors,
Grows,
And I begin to wish I was none,
But myself,
But as I appreciate my outward self the more,
I fear the coming fade,
That may come at any moment,
Or a sudden accident,
To strip away,
My long, tan legs,
My bouncy, delicious brown curls,
My rosy cheeks,
And plump lips,
Would leave a hole,
Like the tearing,
Of friends separated,
At the moments of first intimacy,
Not desolate,
Nor inconsolable,
Just saddened for a while,
For the hauntings of the curse.
Was I created to be admired?
What is the price I have to pay,
To live upon the earth?
Endurance,
Doesn’t always look pretty,
But I live with the promise,
That all that was and is and will be beautiful,
Will be given me,
After I have endured.