You're beautifully unique,
No need to envy anyones physique,
Afterall beauty isn't  specific.
It varies,if not;the world would be boring hence pathetic!
Someone somewhere finds you perfect,flawless
So don't stress.

Not  a home, on earth , O pilgrim,
Always patient , meek and wild,
And Thy life a guiltless victim,
Worship all, this Sacred Child.

Walking with Him all day
Jesus my light that shines through the night,
Always with him through trials in sight,
Walking with him all day
Rather have Him than pleasures of sin,
Rather have Him all day.

Thou didst come to earth as Saviour,
Thou wast sent in poverty,
Thou wast man but great Creator,
Tainted not with vanity.

Throne in Heaven , on earth a stable,
Christ doth teach humility,
Lives have changed but truth is stable,
Thus unveiling  mystery.

Thine a cross on earth a captive,
Made the cross a victory,
Thou didst make Thy death redemptive,
Oh, what fragrant memory.

He's the Way, the key to Heaven,
Now the door is open wide,
Christ exalted , truth is  proven,
I  with Him will e'er abide.

My  Jesus , may  Thy love alone,
Guide me in  pilgrim way,
Let  earthly charms for e'er be gone,
Be  Thou my only stay.

Lord , purify my heart and mind,
That work of grace in me,
Teach  me from day to day to find,
Thy matchless love so free,

Thy  faithful Word gives life and light,
When  Satan's  darts assail,
Give me the needed inward might,
The  joy that will prevail.

A lasting hope of Zion above,
My vision make  Thou clear,
Oh!  Holy Spirit gentle Dove,
Lead Thou me safely there.

Beneath  Thy wings do shelter me,
My  hiding  place is  there,
When night be gone the  day  I see,
My anchor  is  secure.

A  crown  of  life  awaits  me there,
If  faithful  I shall  be.
And those  who  bear  the  cross  will share
Thy throne  eternally.

In watchfulness and praise,
His  holy mount is reached,
He cometh sure to take His Bride,
As the sanctified have preached .

The Christ of the saints will return to the earth,
Rejoice, singing all day,
How good the Lord how great His work,
Rejoice singing all day.

There's harmony and peace
When holiness our aim,
No doubting then when truth we Know,
And all righteousness shun fame.

It's only through His grace,
Redemption  we attain,
No dark'ning  clouds can  mar our sight,
When the kingdom is obtained.

Christ satisfies our hearts,
In trails He gives strength,
With inward might we brave the storms,
And His gentleness our wealth.

Restoreth  He the sick,
His scourgings heal our pains,
All Satan's might He crushed for e'er.
Lo! His faithfulness remains.

Thy various works, imperial queen, we see,
    How bright their forms! how deck’d with pomp by thee!
Thy wond’rous acts in beauteous order stand,
And all attest how potent is thine hand.

    From Helicon’s refulgent heights attend,
Ye sacred choir, and my attempts befriend:
To tell her glories with a faithful tongue,
Ye blooming graces, triumph in my song.

    Now here, now there, the roving Fancy flies,
Till some lov’d object strikes her wand’ring eyes,
Whose silken fetters all the senses bind,
And soft captivity involves the mind.

    Imagination! who can sing thy force?
Or who describe the swiftness of thy course?
Soaring through air to find the bright abode,
Th’ empyreal palace of the thund’ring God,
We on thy pinions can surpass the wind,
And leave the rolling universe behind:
>From star to star the mental optics rove,
Measure the skies, and range the realms above.
There in one view we grasp the mighty whole,
Or with new worlds amaze th’ unbounded soul.

    Though Winter frowns to Fancy’s raptur’d eyes
The fields may flourish, and gay scenes arise;
The frozen deeps may break their iron bands,
And bid their waters murmur o’er the sands.
Fair Flora may resume her fragrant reign,
And with her flow’ry riches deck the plain;
Sylvanus may diffuse his honours round,
And all the forest may with leaves be crown’d:
Show’rs may descend, and dews their gems disclose,
And nectar sparkle on the blooming rose.

    Such is thy pow’r, nor are thine orders vain,
O thou the leader of the mental train:
In full perfection all thy works are wrought,
And thine the sceptre o’er the realms of thought.
Before thy throne the subject-passions bow,
Of subject-passions sov’reign ruler thou;
At thy command joy rushes on the heart,
And through the glowing veins the spirits dart.

    Fancy might now her silken pinions try
To rise from earth, and sweep th’ expanse on high:
>From Tithon’s bed now might Aurora rise,
Her cheeks all glowing with celestial dies,
While a pure stream of light o’erflows the skies.
The monarch of the day I might behold,
And all the mountains tipt with radiant gold,
But I reluctant leave the pleasing views,
Which Fancy dresses to delight the Muse;
Winter austere forbids me to aspire,
And northern tempests damp the rising fire;
They chill the tides of Fancy’s flowing sea,
Cease then, my song, cease the unequal lay.

You are so beautiful.
Seventeen as fresh as new life.
Even your tears turn into spring rain.
So unlike mine which burn like acid.
All your young days I tried to forearm you
That the softness of a mans words
can cut like razor blades.
When they say goodbye.
That love is a beautiful rose.
That tears the flesh with its thorns.
And that even memories
Can sting like hornets.
You are so young.
And even with all my teachings
you have learned that pain
flows through the heart
Into the bloodstream
and burns Everywhere.
You think this is
of your own invention.
Your sweet young soul
Is so forgiving.
Absolving your young man
Of all of the barbed wounds
he inflicts on your heart
and of all the tears
you shed for him.
I want to hurt him
as he hurts you.
Find the pools of his man tears.
And drain them through his eyes.
But instead I hold you to me.
As you cry on my shoulder
And I say to myself
She is only seventeen
She will learn.