Not.
You are not your age,
Nor the size of clothes you wear,
You are not your weight,
Or the color of your hair.
You are not your name,
Or the dimples in yoir cheek.
You are all the books you read,
And all the words you speak.
You are your croaky morning voice,
And the smiles you try to hide,
You're the sweetness in your laughter
And every tear that you've cried.
You're the songs you sing so loudly,
When you know you're all alone,
You're the places that you've been to,
And the one that you call home.
You're the things that you believe in,
And the people that you love,
You're the photos in ypur bedroom,
And the future you dream of.
You are made of so much beauty
But it seems that you forgot,
When you decide that you're defined
By all the things you're not.
