Many a times, to myself, I think,
"What is my beauty?" and there, my
Years bygone, I still ponder over this,
To only realise, beauty lies in my human amiss.
Bones and skin all I was,
To bother about, I was no carcass.
Brown, black or whatever, a little less fair,
But why would I stand for others to compare?
Humanely amiss, all the beauty, I care.