I Hate My Face

In the mirror's unforgiving gaze I see,

A canvas marked by blemishes, that's me.

Face acne blooms, a cruel and constant foe,

A battle waged beneath the skin's fair glow.

Each pimple, scar, a story to be told,

Of struggles faced, of dreams that I still hold.

Yet, in this mirror's harsh, unyielding light,

I long for blemish-free, flawless delight.

I feel the weight of judgment's cruel stare,

As though my skin's imperfections laid bare.

But I must learn to love the skin I'm in,

For beauty's more than what's upon the skin.

My worth transcends the surface, I proclaim,

It's in my heart, my soul, my very name.

Though acne scars may mar this visage true,

My strength and spirit shine in all I do.

So I'll embrace my flaws, both seen and concealed,

And find in self-acceptance, wounds will heal.

For beauty's not confined to skin alone,

It's in the love and kindness I have shown.