Beautiful
I've met people young and old,
who compliment my hair so gold,
And my blue blue eyes, like the ocean on a sunny day,
And curves and height which make heads turn my way.
They say I am beautiful, That in looks I reign.
But truth is this is a crown I will not forever obtain.
And so I thank politely and shove them aside,
Working hard to not let them become food to my pride.
Yet the other day an old lady with sun glasses on a rainy day,
Inquired my help to fined her way.
As I settled her in her final destination,
She held my hand soft as she made a declaration;
She peered into my soul with eyes that can not see
And said:
"You are beautiful".
Copyright © Tova Orbach | Year Posted 2014
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