Once I used to be the most-wanted person among my friends. I was very social and talkative. I was also pretty I think. Now I have none of these things left with me.
Yet I know what I have been through and what I have survived in my life. I am beautiful in my own special way. This is a beauty that traverses physical appearance. I may not look very attractive yet I know what I can offer to my loved ones. I have warmth and goodwill which many people with physical beauty may not possess. I am a victim of my physical ailments and I have lost my charm of youth.
Yet I am guided by the wisdom of experience and such experience that:
“Age cannot wither her, nor custom stale
Her infinite variety: other women cloy
The appetites they feed, but she makes hungry
Where most she satisfies.”
Wherefore I am as beautiful as the dry flower or the broken pieces of earthenware, that once held beauty but now hold a lesson.