God made me
a gift to the world
why are you so afraid
to open me?
unwrap the paper
tug on the bows
discover the treasures within
do you worry that I
might be defective
or an unwanted trinket
you'll want to return
are you scared that
once you discover
what's really within
you wont like what you find?
Isn't every present
something to be treasured
don't imperfections
give us charm?
Does any gift truly belong
trapped forever
in the desolate land
of the unwanted
the rejected
the unloved
I am begging to be opened
longing to be cherished
hoping that one day
someone will see
past my wrinkled wrapping
and tattered bow
and finally unwrap
the true me
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