Yes
You are right
But how does it convince me
That I'm beautiful?
Like an flower
I will wilt
And wrinkles will appear
Beauty beauty
Where are you
Etched on me?
Or did I rip you off
In disgust
YOU ARE READING
I'm Starting To Think...
Poetry...that everything can come together. It can tell us what we are. It can tell us what the meaning of everything is... If you just smile, You'll see the whole world. Now just smile. {Warning: Old. Bad. Old+Bad= Very bad.}
