Woman's day

Every time I looked at her,

I found some fault or another,

It was as if I found,

Another reason to hate her.

The way she looked,

Simple and plain,

Dressed without any effort,

And I found another reason to hate her.

She was always shy,

Silent and withdrawn,

Lackluster in a group,

And I found another reason to hate her.

So many were better than her,

In looks and behaviour,

She never stood out in the crowd,

And I found another reason to hate her.

Then I met a man,

Whose hand she had held,

As he cried of a broken heart,

And I found the hate fade a little.

I saw her through the eyes,

Of the little child she had comforted,

When he was scared of the dark,

And the hate receded further.

I then saw how hard she worked,

On tidying the world around her,

Of how every little corner,

She filled with warmth and care.

She was certainly not perfect,

This girl in my mirror,

But now I have all the reasons

To chose to love and not hate her.