Not being the pretty one

Growing up was tough
not fitting into the definition of beauty
nor being a joy for many eyes.

When all my pretty friends were hailed

with the hymns of their enchanting beauty
I was weeping in the corners, feeling ugly

My skin turned even darker

hearing those cruel remarks
for not being on the fairer side.

I was the tiny eyes and crooked teeth

that's how the world saw me
the rest being invisible to the judging eyes. 

Eventually my own eyes switched sides

when even the mirror on my wall shut me out
for not being the pretty one.

Popular posts from this blog

What do you do?

Are we the darkness?

BFFs