January 18, 2010
Head held high

I feel no shame

Off of my beauty

Their eyes try to pry

The flowers cry

For they don’t compare

That is what is seen

With the naked-eye

Eyes cast down

I feel a brat

On my painted face

Their eyes frown

The spirits laugh

For they see beyond the sparkling gown

That is what is seen

With the opened eye.

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MorningStar15 This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. said...
Feb. 12, 2010 at 8:18 pm
i like it...
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