Train your eyes to see
Not the damage or the scars,
But the true beauty.
*
We are all wounded,
Locked into our own ‘less than’;
Mercy lets us bloom.
Train your eyes to see
Not the damage or the scars,
But the true beauty.
*
We are all wounded,
Locked into our own ‘less than’;
Mercy lets us bloom.
Freedom forms feathers –
Rows and rows standing at attention,
Roman Legionnaires linked with their brothers,
Trained to repel any onslaught;
For,
Knowing my true worth,
Your words
Drip,
Bead,
Drop,
Puddle around me.
And I, like the duck,
Am not wet.