The title of my poem is Beautiful Ugliness
Looking in the mirror, she'd see the fine, fresh face of a beautiful 16 year old woman wanting to take on the world
Then she looks harder.
And then she'll see the harsh reality.
A girl that had hopes, dreams....and they all were washed away.
Being startled by the clap of thunder of the spring storm, she'd look at the pale face, and yearn to go back in time. A time of carefree laughter, dancing in the dewy grass, chasing fireflies. A time of days when she could play with the neighborhood kids.
And then I see the
And it scares me.
Why? I ask. Why me?
It happens to the best of us. One would say.
All the beautiful ugliness.