A Poem for my Mother When She Doesn’t Feel Beautiful

by Clementine Radics

Don’t worry about your body.
It isn’t as small as it once was
but honestly, the world needs more of you.
You look in the mirror
like you’ve done something wrong,
but you look perfect.
Anyone who says otherwise is telling a lie
to make you feel weak.
And you know better.
You’ve survived every single day
for as long as you’ve been alive.
You could spit fire if you wanted.

I can only hope that my daughter does/will/might someday feel this way.
And I could.

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