Am I Beautiful ?

“Am I beautiful?”

I looked at the pier glass

As my fingers stroked over the cicatrix

Memories of the past, the dogma of today

 

“You’re Beautiful”

My mother stated holding me in her arms

Standing in front of the same mirror

An autumn hope, with her dreams of tomorrow

 

“You’re Beautiful”

I stated as my baby girl stared at the mirror

A mirror, a relic of the past, an insignia for the tomorrow

“You’re beautiful” 

 

 

*Free verse. Written in response to Fortnight Friday Fables #3 picture prompt.

Picture Courtesy: Pinterest*

______

Reposted from : 

Diganta Misar – Plasticsouls 

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