Bundled up in the cloak of
Trying to hide behind anonymity,
My anxious self wallows in doubt,
What’s uglier, my face or soul?
What’s prettier, my fury or
Brittle is my confidence that once
soared with pride,
If it shatters apart, will I be able to
gather it’s broken pieces?
Or will it vanish into thin air to the
point of no return?
Accusatory fingers pointed from
“Can’t do one thing right,” they say
Shall I tell them I’ve accepted my
Or cry in a corner muffling my sobs?
Drowning in miseries was a part of
Loving myself clearly wasn’t,
Yet I think of discarding the former
and choosing the latter.
Laughing every time I want to cry
Not only shining like the stars in
the night sky
But also becoming a moon for a
Embracing my flaws, burying my
Putting pessimism to sleep,
waking up with optimism
Smiling past all those invalid
Trusting myself more than any
concrete house of my
With faith, self-love,
Lois Rose Mayday
BA 3rd Year