I walk the halls,
Watching her flowing hair,
Golden in the perfect lighting,
Her hips moving from side to side,
Like Newton's cradle,
Left,
Right,
Left,
Right.
I envy her perfectly highlighted face,
And her winged liner,
That's as sharp as her heels,
Clicking along the wooden boards,
Hypnotizing everyone and anyone,
Including me.
Me,
The girl that walks alone,
To and from class,
The girl that wears tattered jeans,
And stained shirts,
The girl that drops her books,
And gets bullied on countless occasions,
The girl that wishes that she was just like her,
Just like this girl that walks the halls.
Why am I not good enough?
And I'm not talking about others' opinions,
I'm talking about my own,
My self-image,
My self-worth,
My self-confidence,
Why am I not good enough?
Little do I know,
As I walk the halls,
That this girl,
This perfect image of a woman,
Doesn't want to be that way anymore,
While I would **** for that,
She would simply throw it away,
If it were that easy.
The popularity,
The attention,
The friends,
She'd be rid of it in a heartbeat,
If it were up to her.
But I still believe that I'm not good enough,
That I need a face of makeup,
Heels that are too tall to balance on,
An outfit to make me comfortable with my body,
Just to make me feel like I'm worth something,
Like I really am good enough.
So, I watch this girl,
And I envy her,
And she envies me,
As we walk the halls.
This poem is to all the girls who think they need makeup to hide the scars, and the boys that think they need to act a certain way to impress their friends. This poem is to everyone, and anyone who may think less of themselves. You are beautiful no matter what, know that, and you can get to great places.