New Sight
Tired and worn,
Unsure of who I am and where I am going,
I look down at the broken shards of glass
Which hold my reflection.
I see failure,
Wild and broken.
Messy hair and a pale face,
A tired expression and cut hands.
But I see beauty too.
I see the confidence which comes from
endured pains,
The kindness and love,
The spirt still burning.
I see beauty,
Almost hidden from sight,
Tucked away for someone,
Who dares to look at me in a new sight.
