I cried again today
Alone, cramped inside

The tiny four walls of the fitting room.

Why can't I look like
A model?

With a body everybody loves.

Or perhaps a size
A couple inches smaller.

Starving myself does no good.

All a see in the mirror
Is a large pig.

My body is such a failure....

A waste of empty space.
I'm ashamed.

I wish I could hide this body of mine.

Fat jiggles
And I hang my head in embarrassment

And I askv God to make me disappear.

Why can't I be beautiful?
A princess instead of a frog?

Why was I born?

I turned my face away from
The reflection of imperfection

And my eyes caught a writing on the wall.

It was small and almost indiscernable
But my eyes made contact with it.

"God makes all things beautiful."

So simple.
So plain....

Yet my heart tears itself at that.

I'm not ugly.
I'm not a failure.

Because God made me in His image.

I don't know much
But one thing I'm certain about

Is that God doesn't make mistakes.

God is the master potter
And I'm the clay.

He formed me in my mother's womb.

What am I that God should think of me?
Form me into existence?

Surely He thinks of me as pretty.

Because.....
Because.....!

God makes all things beautiful!