You cannot find one word to say,
About you that is good.
Is it because you do not try?
I really think you should.
I don’t think that it’s modesty
That keeps you from self-praise,
I’m pretty sure it’s something more,
That fills your nights and days..
I think that something-more might gnaw
Away at your esteem,
And eat it up in greedy gulps
That leave you without dreams.
For how can one who hates themselves,
The way it seems you do,
Imagine for themselves a path
Where dreams are followed through?
I think perhaps you see a path
With dead ends and diversions
These barriers the route of your
Self-loving word aversions.
I wish that you could find the words
To see the good in you.
The way you feel about yourself
Reflects in all you do.
It cannot be changed overnight,
Perhaps, with time it will,
But know that whilst you hate yourself,
I don’t, I love you, still.
For Alice x