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Poem
She is the sketch, never looked nice,incomplete and the loner.
She never glowed like princesses,
always at the back raw
and was never expected to bloom like Gerbera daisies.
She is just the sketch

with her peers she played and laughed
and some days she would wish to take that atmosphere
back at home with.
one-time she was with friends playing in front of her house
and noticed one of her brothers coming out of his employers car
her friends were stunned to see a white man's car in front of her house
so she pulled a stunt and told them " that is my father! ",
knowing that she was lying but she just wanted to own a parent 
and boasts about what her Father will buy for her.
She only enjoyed that imagination for a minute 
then reality  kicked in in her boney chest box into her agonized heart,
Her guilty conscious caused her to promise herself to never lie about herself again.

She feels uncomfortable in the crowd
She thinks they are better than her,
like a black stone amangst white crystals.
isolating herself from others is what she prefers,
it's so peaceful and comfortable in her own.
though She can see through their eyes
that they are not free around her, she gives it a blind eye.
Its not fair.

Her soul is loving and caring but it is hidden behind the thick skin.
sometimes She can see from a distant a broken soul.
Oh! How she wish she was a butterfly,
fly over a broken one, whispering words of mending
but her wings are broken.
She is just the Sketch!

mouth silenced by the hand of low self esteem
mind talking like floods, eyes speaking like a Queen
Oh! how I wish her mouth could be just her mind,
puking words from her mind.
I guess only her tears can do the talking,
the paper and the pen does the expression.

She never chose her background but She is about to choose her future.
She is just the sketch and the sketch never glows.
when taking more than just a passing glance,
It makes you feel something so uncanny irresistible.
only the feeling can confess its beauty.
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