Shoe Lace

Looking down at the object in her lap, A single shoe with intertwined laces. Each time she laced a pattern, She would look down Because it seemed so wrong to her. But the more she laced, The more she continued, She started seeing the vision Of a perfectly laced shoe. It finished, produced, Sat on her thighs, Beneath her eyes. And the phrase that came to her mind Was, "My life and the lace are so alike." It was not because her life was so perfect; no, It was because they are both so imperfect. Because she was always the rejected one. Just like the lace, Her beginning was not good nor perfect. Which discouraged many people from actually giving her a chance to continue. What hurts the most? Is it their rejection? Or is it her lack of a voice? Is it the level of hatred they showed her? Or is it the same treatment she gives even though she knows better?