They call me fat, but I drape my best in a white gown
They say I am dark, I correct - I am dusky brown.
And then sometimes, when I stand out bright
The imperfections under my skin, traced to put me down.
All that they found so rough, All that they blamed so bleary. 
Broken from a shield, In pursuit to protect the beauty.
In the broken and crippled, In the pieces so imperfect, but real
I see a silver lining, And smile to the beautiful divine.
Embracing it all – For, Oh Yes!
I live less Filtered, A little less Perfect.
I live yet Real, A little more than Perfect.
june 2018