Born at midnight as a new life
The skin was like sweet music of each note
Flawless and fair was her skin
Glowing and pretty was her heart
Beauty was her name
Love and life was her talent
As she skipped in the air gracefully
Roses and Jasmine's were her scent
Was she even real or god sent?

But she wasn't even truly herself
Her facade had cracked
She was bitter,broken and used
With fake and heartless people she was shacked
She didn't know who trust
She was worn and waiting to be discarded
She was torn, each limb of hers felt betrayed
As even her heart was scarred

That was who we called perfection
That was who we called an angel
While that angel was broken
Discarded, and her ship had set sail
She didn't have her life anymore
But we still called her beautiful
Not because she had the face of a heavenly creature
But because her smile was true, real and wistful

- There is beauty in sorrow.