To Be Accepted

I woke up this morning and looked

at the mirror.

I saw myself with wounds to heal.

A lot, in fact, most are but minor,

For to have one, you cannot feel.

But wounds this many no matter

how small,

Will hurt even the toughest.

I know because it happens to all,

From cruel to the kindest.

Each of us, we hold the pain,

In which there is no cure.

The hottest days and wettest rains.

You need but one heart pure.

Through smiles and frowns through

roughest days,

there is always a hand to hold.

Those with us in every way.

Those who are but bold.

To accept us not just of what give,

But for what we are and will be.

For what have and why we live,

For what you used to be

For I am waiting for that person

For the one who will accept me..

that who free me from my prison,

'Till that day, I'll wait and see.