"You know you're beautiful the way you are. Beauty is at its best when you don't try to be beautiful. No matter what race you belong to, you're black or white, tall or short, fat or thin. There's always somebody who's crazy about you for the way you are. Crazy not about your body, but about the one in it. Stay same –laugh, cry, express anger and wonder, yawn, go mischievous -all the time you look great."

When you smile;
that curve for a while,
makes your eyes twinkle;
like youth peeked out of every wrinkle,
no matter you belong to which race;
you've got a pretty face.
When you cry;
when somebody asks you deny,
and the tears that fall;
looks like the best pearls of all,
and the way they shine;
like diamonds, sublime.
When you raise your brows in surprise;
with questions in your eyes,
uncertainty could be this great;
I've never imagined of that,
and then it comes back to normal;
like someone has answered it all.
When you miss someone, lost deep;
try hard but can't sleep,
unaware you're beautiful too;
and you want 'em to adore you,
well, you must be someone's bliss;
may not be the one you often miss.
When anger turns you tough;
for the hidden love that isn't enough,
you mess up your face, unseen;
battling inside; keeping outside serene,
for those eyes I can read;
longing for the return love you feed.
When you're scared;
realized nobody cared,
with a huge lump in throat;
trying to fix the fear you've got,
look great when you fight;
with the demons inside.
When you are asleep;
adoring innocence you keep,
unintended like a child;
even admired by blind,
makes even narcissist believe;
in the beauty you perceive.
When you are mischief;
like child in you knows no grief,
you don't care of black and white;
of what's wrong and right,
you play with little demon in you;
believe me you're beautiful too.
~Shreya
P.S. My creation, please do not copy | Copyright © Protected | Image: Google
P.P.S. Work Of Fiction!

When you smile;
that curve for a while,
makes your eyes twinkle;
like youth peeked out of every wrinkle,
no matter you belong to which race;
you've got a pretty face.
When you cry;
when somebody asks you deny,
and the tears that fall;
looks like the best pearls of all,
and the way they shine;
like diamonds, sublime.
When you raise your brows in surprise;
with questions in your eyes,
uncertainty could be this great;
I've never imagined of that,
and then it comes back to normal;
like someone has answered it all.
When you miss someone, lost deep;
try hard but can't sleep,
unaware you're beautiful too;
and you want 'em to adore you,
well, you must be someone's bliss;
may not be the one you often miss.
When anger turns you tough;
for the hidden love that isn't enough,
you mess up your face, unseen;
battling inside; keeping outside serene,
for those eyes I can read;
longing for the return love you feed.
When you're scared;
realized nobody cared,
with a huge lump in throat;
trying to fix the fear you've got,
look great when you fight;
with the demons inside.
When you are asleep;
adoring innocence you keep,
unintended like a child;
even admired by blind,
makes even narcissist believe;
in the beauty you perceive.
When you are mischief;
like child in you knows no grief,
you don't care of black and white;
of what's wrong and right,
you play with little demon in you;
believe me you're beautiful too.
~Shreya
P.S. My creation, please do not copy | Copyright © Protected | Image: Google
P.P.S. Work Of Fiction!