My Mother's Daughter

I'll never be my mother's definition of beautiful

Graceful and tight-lipped...

I'm all hard lines and sharp angles, 

I could never find the right way to sit.

I can't help but fidget, tinker and question

My mind is scattered in every direction. 

Still, I pose just right 

Hands clasped in my lap.

And wonder if I will ever fit in my mother's shoes 

Or perhaps I fit too well

Maybe the one she cannot accept is herself