She was not perfect,

But the scars on her body,

Made her look,

The most exquisite.

The deep cuts of feirce and courage,

That gracefully she wears everyday,

Is the proof of her strength,

She cannot hide.

She was a soul beyond comparison,

No flawless body could ever be matched,

To the depth of her soul,

For her inner light was her truest charm.

She was a masterpiece, complete,

Defined by her scars, not the society,

A perfect art, hard to find,

For her perfection was a radiance,

That came from within.

With every scar, she shone,

A unique trait like no one possessed,

Earned through every battle she faced,

She owns a beauty truly her own.

The world chases after perfection,

While she with her scars, stands tall,

A body embracing self-acceptance,

Radiating genuine beauty from within.

She was not perfect,

But the scars on her body,

Made her look,

The most exquisite.