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Wednesday, April 10, 2013

Pretty

I used to be pretty
Not in the sense that I was pretty
But very pretty nonetheless

I didn't wear dresses or makeup
No sexy high heels graced my feet
My hair wasn't long and silky
Or short and sassy

Though it was once long and greasy
But I was still oh so pretty

Pretty in the way that Muhammad Ali meant I think
All young and smooth
With all the best moves that I'd ever have
No wrinkles on my face
All my teeth in place
No aches and pains in my joints

It's the pretty that I see in retrospect
Of me posing for our school newspaper's swimsuit edition
Doing dangerous things blissfully unaware of the danger
Of smiling and scowling as I please
With no deep crease upon my brow

I suppose that in twenty years hence
I'll look back and think of how pretty I am now
With all the advantages this younger self has
Less wrinkles and fewer still scars
Than the future me will surely have

Maybe I'll jumpstart the process
Perhaps with a little cajoling
I can convince myself
That I'm really quite pretty right now


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