You are not your age,
Nor the size of clothes you wear,
You are not a weight,
Or the colour if your hair,
You are not your name,
Or the dimples of your cheeks,
You are all the books you read,
And all the words you speak,
You are your croaky morning voice,
And the smiles you try to hide,
You are the sweetness of your laughter,
And the tears you have cried,
You are the songs you sing so loudly,
When you know you are all alone,
You are the places you have been to,
And the one that you call your home,
You are the things you believe in,
And the people you love,
You are made of so much beauty,
But it seems that you forget,
When you decided you were defined,
By all the things you are not.


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