Oo! My Poor Face - Poem by Bonwell Rodgers
Sitting on the couch, looking at the mirror, watching may face.
To be honest, from the tip of my toe,
all the way up, to the hair of my head,
I see nothing pleasing for exhibition.
My legs are curved like a bow
almost making a complete circle when standing.
From there, lies my thin thighs and a slight behind,
tagged along with my stomach rotund.
Hanging on my hanger of bones are my long thin arms.
Talking of the face I am staring now breaks me.
From the top of my head, down
I have two ayes, very large like awls.
My skin is black, extremely black as death,
generous with great acnes
Are they sent by someone who envies my skin?
My big nose hangs planted on the center
giving the impression that I was born to blow it.
My lips are heavy; like all the flesh on my cheeks is gathered there.
This ugliness comes deep from my core
for my unfortunate looks are coupled with putrid behavior.
But wait: What am I thinking?
I have a heart to mend
Beauty must come deep from the heart
otherwise it may be hypocrisy
why focus on the hood
When I have habits to shade, manners to curb.
I have to start with mending my heart
although I have unfortunate looks,
at least I should have a beautiful heart.
Poet's Notes about The Poem
Comments about Oo! My Poor Face by Bonwell Rodgers
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep
Mary Elizabeth Frye
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You