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Juniper Dec 2018
You look at a person
A stranger, a loved one, a partner
And you think;
How can one person be so beautiful?
Inside and out you see an aura of unimaginable beauty
A friendly face
An intoxicating laugh
A smile that makes you smile without even realizing it

And then you look at yourself
You hate the way you smile, all crooked and mouthy
The way your cheeks are too pudgy
Your glasses too big for your face
Your voice too soft to break through the chatter of others

But you
You are a lion whose voice is booming thunder
With claws that can tear through the veil
The one you’ve kept yourself shrouded in for too long
You should be proud
Proud of your wild and unruly mane
Proud of your scars earned from battles with many others
Not to mention the battles you wage on yourself
You could move mountains and uproot trees if you tried

But you don’t
You look at yourself
Your cheeks too pudgy
Glasses too big
Voice kept under lock and key
Vocal chords dusty with disuse
Your heart is so big and so beautiful
You see so much in everyone else
But can’t bear to see anything in yourself

You are a wild flower sprouting through the cracks in the sidewalk
You could move mountains and uproot trees if you tried
please be gentle on me i haven't written anything in so long
Jade Welch Nov 2018
Mysterious eyes
lead the way
met the man
knew not what to say.

You cannot call it love
for we have never met
your eyes fill with disdain
and mine with respect.

Just another girl in love
this is all you think of me
but close those mysterious eyes
only then shall you really see!
love
Joie Yin Sep 2018
Never say or think
you're not pretty.
If you're feeling lost
in darkness,
be your own light
and find your way.

Deep in your soul
there is beauty.
Embrace your scars
and imperfections,
Turn them into strength
come what may.

Take pride in your
attitude and dignity.
Love yourself sincerely
without conditions,
You're already beautiful
every single day.
Joie Yin
While they noticed the stretch of kohl in her eyes,
I could see a pacific of emotions trapped.
While they admired her blushing cheeks,
I could read the paleness she painted red.
While they were going gaga over her smirk,
I could fathom the depth of pain that debarred a hearty gale.
While they were lured by the cascade of her hair when she unscrewed the bun,
I could feel the onus of the tantrums she wanted to turf out.
While they were hypnotized by her mesmeric curves,
I was stunned by the withstanding efficacy of such a fragile body.
While they adored her attire and scarves,
I could trace the bruises she carried with poise.
While they were hung up by the glory of her face,
I could do no help but ride out at the scars she concealed with sprightliness which was the most beautiful thing my eyes could ever have a view of and it left me dazed...
And my mouth wide opened.
-Aparajita Tripathi
Rose Apr 2018
Don't get entice only
to the beauty of the flower itself.
For it will shrivel in the test of time.
And you'll be left alone
only with all the crashed
fragments of her petals
when her love dies,
despite on how you kept her.

If you want to take her hand
Let both your love flourish.
Scan deep within her roots
For it is where her soul lies.
Include her thorns
And know her more.
You'll never get to love her purely
Unless you take her all.
Before you got to say you love that person, make sure your heart falls first. Not because of what you see but because of what your heart feels.

Then, let acceptance rule over.
Kelsey Chupp Feb 2018
she was a leaf
holding up the blossom
that grew above her

it is hard to love a flower
because beauty
is sometimes vain

that is why i love her
and not the flower
for leaves are not vain
they do not envy
they are kind
and they are true

it is easy to let beauty blind you
for leaves fall before petals wilt
-k.j.c
butterfly Jul 2017
her sophistication
inner beauty a strength
his mountains and lakes
haiku
Kewayne Wadley Nov 2016
She was a flower,
Blossoming in each direction she stepped.
A flower tucked in a rose woven sweater.
She grew thorns to protect herself from those whom sought to misuse the essence of her beauty.
The spread of her fragrant bud, spreading her petal in the midst
of where she stood.
Paying no never-mind to her roots, her petals withered.
Applying water to everywhere accept where it was needed most.
They continued to pass, her sweater now dingy.

The ***** of different fingers, she no longer swayed the same.

A season of orange and red leaves.
Then came the winter. Hard but fair

Robbing her of all the beauty she possessed.

It was when her petals fell that she remembered what mattered most
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