Piece by piece I was put together.
Made from parts that were just left over.
Not my choice to be this way.
Its why some consider me a monster when they see me.
But does your appearance define who you are?
No! Its simply your outer shell configuration.
Polished to a shine I thought could not be.
My parts are superior than what I wished to see.
For so long I accepted I was ugly.
Truth of the matter is I needed some visual therapy.
Still does this appearance define who I am?
No! Its simply my outer shell configuration.
Sandblasted until I am all smooth.
Now everyone wants to be part of my groove.
Cheering my name as I walk by.
Waving oh so vigorously as if I am a deity from the sky.
Yet does my appearance define all I am?
No! But now its a true representation of what I’ve always been.
Simon A Jackson - Writer 