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
Well elaborated.
perplex but lightful.
To speedy health then!
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Thanks!
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