The Hidden Beauty in us All

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
This is a small poem that I thought up one day. It's a kind of philosophy, I suppose. I know that it starts a bit childish, but keep reading. It gets better as you go, I promise. I hope you all enjoy it!

Submitted: March 27, 2015

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Submitted: March 27, 2015

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I have ten rough fingers, on each of them a shell.

The shell protects my fingers, it serves them very well.

On top of my ten fingers, there dead white skin does hide.

The flaps are small, but all in all, in looks they don't supply.

My fingers aren't the greatest, but with them I can write.

I'll happily type paragraphs from morning on 'til night.

I like my ten rough fingers, imperfect is the best.

Though through them no quality shows, my words are filled with zest.

My fingers are the greatest, for they do serve me well.

Without these ten to type with, on words my mind would dwell.

So I do like these fingers, imperfect as they be,

For they are just as perfect as all of the rest of me.

Though some may think it's childish, while others, they might cheer,

I do beleive some need to see the beauty that lies here.

And not just in myself it lies, for in others this beauty hides,

They might not see it very clearly, and for some not enough nearly,

People need to understand that our looks we just can't command.

So I write for those big and small,

Who think their looks sure can appall,

You're beautiful, in every single way.

And if you folks still aren't convinced,

That every bump of yourself fits,

Ask anyone, and they will say the same.

 


© Copyright 2020 YoungButExperienced. All rights reserved.

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