You.

As days of looking into the mirror
   rolled into years;
The twin glaring back at you-
   was never good enough, a stranger.

The mould too strict for you-
   too fat, too thin, too basic to fit.
Sulking for hours on end offer
   no solace till you realise.

It took you this long, darling to see
   that the mould, in fact is mind's play.
For beauty is that which flows  
   from flawed perfection.

Love yourself.

 

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