Poetry Blossoms Within

Not Enough

I stand here, a canvas with cracks,
A mosaic of flaws, where confidence lacks.
A silent whisper in a crowded room,
Invisible, fading, under love's cold gloom.

I wear the mask of "good enough," a desperate guise,
But inside, a storm brews, a cyclone of lies.
"Not enough," it chants, a relentless refrain,
A melody of doubts, coursing through my veins.

I've tried to be more, to fit the mold,
To wear the titles, to be bright and bold.
But the mirror reflects a shadowed face,
A portrait of lacking, in a never-ending chase.

They say love is blind, but my flaws are loud,
Echoing, reverberating, in every crowd.
I offer pieces, hoping they'll see,
The worth in the fragments that make up me.

But they turn away, with eyes that judge,
As if my worth is measured by some cosmic grudge.
A scale tipped heavy with all my wrongs,
A list of "not enoughs" that's miles long.

I scream into the void, seeking validation,
But the silence answers with stark desolation.
Inadequate, unworthy, the words sting,
A chorus of rejection, a broken wing.

I've danced in the shadows of those who shine,
Watching their glow, wishing it were mine.
But I'm the unseen, the overlooked,
A footnote in stories, a chapter that's forsook.

Yet, in this emptiness, a truth resides,
A quiet strength, where self-love abides.
For in the depths of "not enough," I've found,
A resilience, a voice, a strength unbound.

So here's to the ones who feel like less,
The unseen, the quiet, the souls in distress.
For in our brokenness, we find our might,
A testament to our unyielding fight.

To be enough, to love ourselves, despite the pain,
To stand tall, in the face of the rain.
For love begins within, a truth profound,
Inadequate no more, in our own worth, we're found.