The Forlorn Plain Girl

For as long as I can remember, I've always felt plain. I’m sure I’m not being a lunatic. “Plain” is not just an assumed name, It was young, and had grew. Contrary to morning leave dews, Unfortunately it never went away. To its stint I've always felt an easy prey. I really tried to fudge it many times By pretending like it’s not there, But public remarks and their glare, I mean that painful judgmental stare, Has always bought me back to its confines. They have gone by, the feeling’s formative years, Sadly though the bitter I shed my tears. Not that I wasn't aware, but when I was small, To this issue I didn't feel anything of a thrall. It did at times flood me with sad feelings, And my mind just labeled it unappealing. However, I guess then I had no extreme sensitivities, Because I just was obscured by typical child activities. But then as I grew, its smears were rapturing my patience I felt unworthy to be loved and cared for. It was a real war, and I was the prisoner of the war! I don’t know it was just something bitter. It piled up, a gross and smelly soul litter! However, I thought, I don’t have to calamine my identity, Neither be camouflaged in my reality Although set amid negative inferiority imposed thoughts. I choose to be grateful, not because I have all But because of all that I have. When you are grateful Complaints disappear as the oasis of serenity grows in your heart. I find a peace filled heart as an alluring work of art!