By Monica C. Voskamp 

Is that all I am

Trash?

Time after time

One form of you

Picks me up

Looks me over

And throws me away

Without a

Backward glance.

 

Is that all I’m worth?

Just a pretty

Pitiful plaything

For a time

Till some other

Shiny penny

Catches your eye?

 

Prove me wrong

You breed called men

Aren’t all this way

Just don’t prove me

Right.

I’d rather keep

My glitter of hope

There is a different

Type.

 

But maybe it is more

What I once heard: 

The more I see myself

Someone rare  beautiful

Someone worth holding on to 

Someone worth more.

Then I won’t let

Any man’s grime

Even touch me.

 

Maybe then I’ll see the other

Half of the breed

Who aspire to be better

Who give dignity

To the species of

Feminine gold

Including the figure

Of me.

 

Yes, once I see myself

Wholly through

These eyes

Of such high worth

Of beauty undefinable 

Then I will believe 

Rightfully.

 

I want, need to know

By myself

Than told by you

My worth is not

That pitiful roadside trash 

Rather my worth is more

It’s breathtaking beautiful 

 It’s Feminine Gold.

 

Always hope. Always believe. Always love. 💕

*Photo Credit: https://unsplash.com/@priscilladupreez