I want to see beauty. In the ugly, in the sink, in the suffering, in the daily, in all the days before I die, the moments before I sleep.
Ann Voskamp

She is ugly or so she thinks,

Round stomach,  legs full of strech marks,

Eyes too close to tell,

Bulb like nose,  lips too full.


She is ugly,  or so they say,

Skin too dark, Hair too kinky,

Too many scars on her back,

Her hands slack.


They say He is Ugly,

Thrown when a baby,

Clothes too dirty, Unshaven hair,

Hands too rough, to touch you wouldn’t dare.


Their Ugliness tell a story,

Of perception the world takes,

Because it truly doesn’t matter,

To them or to you.

For she loves unconditionally,

And her intelligence matches no one else’s,

And his determination, My God will drive you to tears.

So shut down the self loathe  Love,

For the last thing you want is to give into their judgment,

Their crude standards of beauty,

Because in the end Ugliness is in the eyes of the beholder.


4 thoughts on “Ugly

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