By Sakina
As the brush strokes the canvas
I reminisce my past
My once young and naive self
I do not recognize myself,
I do not know how to love myself.
The suit that I have spent my life earnings on,
I have started to dislike
I compare my skills to those who are better
I point out my flaws
How could I love myself?
The process, lengthy and strenuous,
I recollect my thoughts
I look deep into the eyes my loving parents created
The more I see my flaws,
the more I love myself
An ekphrasis on the Self-Portrait by Vincent Van Gogh
