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mom, am i beautiful?

Anonymous
Jan 7
1 min read

I heard crying from downstairs

It was just like any other night,

My stuffed animals smiling in the corner,

My collection of books waiting to be read,

But something was not right,

Especially because the crying didn't involve yelling

Mom wasn't angry

She just did not feel beautiful

Beautiful woman, with a big heart and an impeccable drive

I admire her in so many ways

But none of them had to do with her body

But I know she has always believed that her body meant something,

To my dad, her coworkers, or her friends

But I know it never did

My curvy figure mirrored hers,

My golden locks matched hers,

If you don't think you're beautiful,

Mom am I beautiful?

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