You are not your age.
Or the size of your clothes.
You are not your height or weight.
Or the colour of your hair.
You aren’t your name
Or the dimples on your cheeks.
You are made of the books that you read,
And all the words that you speak,
And the smiles you try to hide.
You’re the sweetness in your laugh
And every tear you’ve cried.
You’re the songs that you sing out loud in the shower.
You are the things that you believe in.
You’re all the people that you love.
You’re the future you dream of.
You’re made of so much beauty, but you seem to forget it.
You’ve chosen to be defined by all the things that you are not.