Being Me, a Poem

 

They lay it on thick –

Sometimes

It is the promise

Of a lifetime

This cream

Shall cure old age

And remove those wrinkles

Crow’s feet, and cellulite

Celebrate the new you!

Worry not,

For you will be the same,

Just younger

And more vibrant

You shall move

Through the streets

With confidence!

And they barely realize

I sing beneath the story

Of these lines.

They are the narrative

Of what I have become

What I have overcome

And what I have cherished.

They trace the many ways

That I have smiled

Whole-heartedly

And unabashedly.

They tell the story

Of upswept passion

The fearless breath

The will to be –

And the many ways and means

That I have

Stretched myself thin

Remade myself

And built myself back up again

From nothing.

They tell

The many ways

That I have loved

That I have sewn beauty

Far beyond the words

That crawl upon this line.

No –

I need not wipe

Those aged marks upon my face

Nor furl my brow

At the freckles,

The dimples

The glasses that now

Find uneasy stance upon my nose

I celebrate myself –

Where I have been

And where I hope to be

And nothing

And no-one

Shall say there is shame

In being me.

 

(c) Sumyanna 2016

 

Beautiful image courtesy of Pexels.com