Don’t cover your face with your long bangs;
Try to hide your figure with your hands.
Look away when eyes lock into yours
Because you feel
They’ll cringe at the sight.
Don’t converse with the floor when you walk;
Avoid all the people that pass.
Slouch down, hunchbacked, in a crowd
Desperately, trying hard
To merge with the ground.
Don’t tell yourself you won’t pass;
Talk in a whisper.
Contract your open hand, fist it,
Drawing in,
Clutched tightly with your heart.
Don’t frown at your image on the tainted glassframe;
Look at me- I mean what I say.
Stand tall. Chest up. Look straight.
I twirled you around.
Tucked a stray hair gently behind your ear,
Wiped off the tears with my hands
And stared.
You’re beautiful.
So many have yet to see, my friend.
When our world and views are so blemished;
Superficial reigning like an implorable mountain,
Where minds cannot compass through the mists
To find the unsullied hearts below.
But even if this unwinding path continues
Let time not wait, and pass,
But mine voice to you
Past your teary eyes,
Gaze upon you, and whisper:
Beautiful.
Grace Tan
25 Jan ‘07