Precy Brozas Varilla
The Unspoken Gratitude
All the time...
She tells me I'm beautiful, I say I feel desolate and mirrors scream that I look awful.
She adores my eyes round as owls; I say they look at a kaleidoscope with a scowl.
She tells me I'm wonderful, I say I was born almost empty of beauty and grandeur.
With my little triumphs she delights, I say they're only fitted for tramps.
He tells me I'm full of wisdom, I say it won't bring me to any kingdom.
He gladdens with my obedience, I say I only don't want to ma