Work on self

In the quiet of dawn, I carve out space,

A chisel, a brush, a heart in my hands.

Flaws like cracked marble, I polish with grace,

No need for the world when the mirror understands.

Sweat on my brow, I rewrite every seam,

Threads of old doubts, I pull them apart.

Breathe deep, stand taller—this growth is my dream,

Till the cracks turn to stories, a beautiful art.