J. C. Kuehn Miller

Read. Write. Repeat. Aspire to be a Janitor.

It wasn’t a face…

It wasn't a face you would see
     in a movie with perfect skin
     and well trimmed lines.
It wasn't painted or sculpted.
It had character,
     personality.
You could see joy, sorrow,
     pain, peace,
     
and she had freckles.

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This entry was posted on August 31, 2014 by in Poetry and tagged , .
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