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Sixteen

I could’ve loved myself, but I chose not to,

as there was nothing so lovable about me.

My petals were thorns in my garden,

Wasn’t adoring myself, there was no love.

I never smiled looking at the mirror,

as I looked like someone awful,

Meanwhile, I adored everybody unpleasant.

I wasn’t so much in love with myself,

As my hairs smelled like rose and woods,

They said to me it stinks,

I believed they did, without breathing in.

That’s what I did when I was sixteen,

I believed in everyone, who wasn’t me.

-Riya Shah

By Ray

POET| CONTENT WRITER| BLOGGER

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