Beautiful

I get weird looks,

When I wear my baseball cap,

And favorite baggy sweatshirt,

Like there is some unwritten rule,

In this society,

That says girls should only wear,

Form-fitting clothes,

Like skinny jeans,

And crop tops,

That show a little skin.

Tight shirts,

And short shorts.

It’s like the clothes you wear

Equal your beauty,

And you’re nothing without.

Your wild laugh,

Your crazy hair,

And the little skip-jump way you walk,

Is nothing,

Because apparently,

Your body is what is,

Suppose to be beautiful.

There’s no questioning why,

Because I’ve tried,

And it seems that the answer,

Is obvious:

Your body is deemed,

The most beautiful part of you.

So flaunt it for show,

Do what is expected of you,

And never question why:

Society says,

Your body is,

The most beautiful part of you.

If you don’t fit in,

And wear funky clothes,

That are full of personality,

And quirk,

Then it is clear,

That you are not,

Considered beautiful.

You might be considered bold,

Or perhaps spirited,

But no one will really think,

That your body is,

The most beautiful part of you.

I wonder when things because twisted,

That you are not beautiful,

Unless your body is skinny,

Or curvy,

Or flawless,

No one likes freckles,

At least that is what,

I’ve been told,

And they only mar your skin,

To take away,

What beauty they might have seen.

I’m tired of seeing certain parts of me,

As imperfections,

And seeing others shot down,

For the same reasons,

Because I think it’s time to question,

Why people don’t consider me,

Beautiful,

Because I weigh more,

And freckles are on my skin.

And my friends I’ve seen cry,

In the bathroom,

Because they wear different clothes,

And have different colored skin.

Because their eyes are a little slanted,

Or their face not powdered with make-up.

Why are they not considered beautiful?

I wear comfortable clothing,

And will not change that,

For anyone,

So if society doesn’t think,

Me beautiful,

Then I know,

My friends do,

Because I’ve seen,

The dark corners of schools,

Where the outcasts cry,

And go about with empty eyes,Beautiful

The people who dye their hair,

Because it wasn’t considered beautiful,

When it was natural,

And who cake on make-up,

Because they are not considered beautiful,

Without.

I’m tired of finding,

Beautiful people in the corners,

Catching dust,

When they should be,

Allowed to feel beautiful,

And be themselves,

Without having society,

Saying no.

Tilt up your chin girl,

You have a beauty,

That can’t be mocked,

Or hidden away.

Don’t worry about what they say,

In the weight room boy,

Because the football team still stinks,

While you are in Honors.

Don’t listen to society,

When it picks and pokes,

To find the ones,

Who it thinks can shine,

When they don’t see,

Being fooled by the brighter shine,

That you were beautiful all along,

And you just have to be,

Yourself,

In order to see that too.

 

 

 

 

Posted in: WHY

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