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Patsy

Emma Majaury

Contributor


Sometimes,

I am beautiful—

But only when it’s right.

Because they are afraid of me,

A woman with looks that bite.

Other days,

I’m ugly.

So gruesome, they could cry.

They’d cast me out in exile,

And leave me there to die.

At times,

I’m simply radiant.

No words could make me ill.

It all would bounce right back at them.

These looks could really kill.

Most often,

I am in-between.

My beauty, a weapon concealed.

And when the moment comes along,

My true self is revealed.


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