She fails too many a time
Beats herself up about it
Wonders at her waste of time
And why she’s good at nothing
Her jokes slip away like sewage
Her laughter is hard like a coal pot
She can’t keep friends within her age
So her failures are now a lot.
But she met a street lord
Who reminded her of God
And how he loves even the worst
Hoping in his love they’ll come to trust.
So she wakes up at midnight
And sits before her computer
Smiles to herself about her million flaws
And sets an alarm to warn her
That every time she thinks she’s a mess
She must always add ‘beautiful’
She’s learnt that she’s a beautiful mess
And beating yourself only ruins you.