Mirror
Painting my eyes with charcoal,
Dabbing my cheeks with colors,
I hope to find a different woman,
But still,
A scarred woman stared back at me.
Ugly she may be,
Yet her heart was gold.
Scarred she may be,
But not weak as she appears to be.
She's not an apparition,
But a woman of my own reflection.
March 29, 2020
10:19PM
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100 Days || Poetry
Poetry2nd Place : The Pantheon Awards 2020 100 Days. 100 thoughts. 100 poems. Welcome to my newest collection of poems written based on what random things that comes into my mind. Be it pain, or happiness. Join me as I challenge myself to write from scra...
