Warm wind blowing

Bird Sitting, Staring

Wanting to tell me something

What is it I ask

Tears come to my eyes

He's staring right at me

Seeing me, hoping I can see me too

I do see the beauty in me

My kindness, my strength

and yet

why is there fear to admit these things -

the need to apologize.

I'm not saying I'm better than

or prettier than or smarter than

or stronger than.

Just that I AM ME

Perfectly Imperfect.