Beauty isn’t just a word
It is a symphony blasting note after elegant note
An orchard of flowers sitting under the luminous orange sun
A canvas covered in stroke after stroke
A girl

Red, curly locks of hair glistening in the light
Bright blue eyes able to light even the darkest paths ahead of her
All of her interests and feelings are unique to who she is and the embodiment of her being
But she doesn’t realize any of it

Instead, she sees herself as just a girl
She notices only her flaws
Creating a false profile of bad habits and imperfections
But she is really just like a flower

The longer she goes on, the more impurities she feels she attains
But eventually these impurities wilt away
Like dying rose petals
They wilt not to be forgotten, but to be forgiven.
Then to make room for pure petals to grow
And then once again become the definition of beauty