Mine

The song that flows from every fiber of my being,
Is not a Grammy Winner, but it is my own.
The face that stares back at me in the mirror,
It is not a supermodel's, but it is my own.
The hands I use to make something or help someone,
They are not delicate, by they belong to me.
These eyes that look out onto the world,
Do not illuminate great beauty, but they belong to me.
The life that I live everyday, is not worthy of great allocolades or merit, but it is the one I lead.
My faith is not one which destroys evil and builds good,
But it is mine.
My heart is not one that can withstand battering and beating, but it is mine, and it is broken.
By J. F. Lee 2004

Email: smalltown26@hotmail.com