PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

I stand in front

of the mirror once more.

Scarred, torn,

and beaten.

The sight of myself

is not appealing.

Yet I still accept me,

and who I am.

And who I am

trying to become.

Still trying to work

on the endless flaws.

I know what I need

to do.

But I can only do

so much.

I can only bend over

backwards,

so many times.

It only gets harder,

and wears me down

even more.

I grow feint, and think

noone will accept me

in my condition.

And not that I think

lowly of myself.

But I am treated that way.

I pray that someone can see

me as I am,

in this raw state.

I will never be finished

with the work

in me.

I know my faults

and issues that I need

to work on.

But who can love me?

Only when I am complete?

Only after I have done so much?

How can I expect unconditionality

only when I am accepted

at my best?

Why can't I be accepted

for who I am now,

in the present?

Why can't people understand,

I accept myself,

I see exactly what other people see?

It is others,

who do not

accept me.