“A Figure Of Flaws Or A Frame To Flaunt?”

It was a pale crescent evening,
With the pace of wind increasing,
As the curtains fluttered and the window kept thudding,
She wrangled with the gales, but managed to shut the whamming.
She came back, sat facing the mirror with despair,
And the mirror then questioned, “what is it love, that needs to repair?”

She wiped her face while tying her messy wavy hair,
And probed herself asking, “why am I like this, is it even fair?”
She wailed listing her flaws,
the mirror kept turning all into a reason for applause.

“But what about my obesity?
“Isn’t that a fact that men love curves and dogs love bones?”

“And my stubborn stretch marks”
“I thought you were a tigress with her strips.”

“But I’m dark too!”
“Well, isn’t dark chocolate important to make a delicious piece of brownie?”

“Ughh! And my pimples, acnes, pores and scars??”
“Isn’t your face a galaxy full of stars?”

“Umm… My big blunt nose?”
“Doesn’t that resemble the lioness in you that not everyone knows?”

After hearing to the contradicts, the mirror gave,
She now started looking up to herself as bold and brave.
The mirror in the end added, “You ain’t a figure of flaws but a frame to flaunt.”

She smiled to this,
unwrapped her hair,
opened the window,
Sat around,
gazed the misty sky,
while the silver line showered on her,
Embracing her glitches.

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