An Unflattering Moment

Tucked away in a drawer, an old photo stares,

yellowed edges framing a face that I dread.

At a party, I’m smiling, but nobody cares,

my hair’s in disarray, and my heart feels misled.

The forced grin seems crooked, an awkward disguise,

as if I was captured in moments unkind.

Why did I think this was worthy of eyes?

It’s a snapshot of self that leaves echoes behind.

I toss it back in, like I’m burying shame,

a moment suspended that crumbles my pride.

Yet, isn’t it strange how we’re all just the same?

This photograph lingers, but I won’t let it hide.