No fairytale can counter
What science has achieved
What's manifest is better
Than what begs to be believed

No doctrine can encumber
The forward march of Reason
Deepest wisdom consists
In truth's eternal season

No magick can outshine
The majesty of nature
She is fierce, sublime
A mezmerizing creature

I want to wait
in silence
for heaven to
fragment my soul

to softly
rest in trust
of the arms
thou behold

linger on those eyes
refflecting
the indigo night sky

oceans and waves
inside
your perfect shapes

if only they came through
the glass
that hides you

if only they were wild
towards
the shores of mine

A little girl at the age of 6 looked up at you.
She asked..
"Grandma, can I have a cookie?"
You smiled and said
"I guess."
That girl turned 13, and she looked up at you.
She asked..
"Grandma, can you take me to the movies?"
You smiled and said
"I guess."
When she turned 16, she looked down at you from beside the hospital bed.
She asked..
"Grandma, can you please stay?"
You faintly smiled and whispered
"I guess."
Today, that little girl looks down at you once more.
A tear rolls down my cheek as I look at your grave.
They ask me..
"Sweety, will you be alright?"
My voice cracks as I whisper
"I guess."

Small waist, thick thighs...
But I'm stuck with just having; nice eyes.
Long hair perfect skin.
I'm here trying to just get thin.
Society praises the perfect woman.
Although they only exist in magazines.
We Photoshop, nip, tuck, and torture our bodies.
Because we are objects boys just want to ****.
I want to change this stereo type of what a woman is.
We are not objects here because guys cant just use there ***** to take a wiz.
When we act with in the lines of society it changes our morals.
We act immorally because that's what they expect.
Guys face stereo types as well but are told to ignore them.
As girls we are told to embrace them.
How can we not with main stream celebrities flaunting there bodies.
Tall, short, skinny thick.
There's more than one model so just take that in.
Bitten nails, long hair.
The stereo types of perfection are not fair.
Girls mutilate to be perfect...I think its time we stand up and care.
We come in many shapes and sizes...so why do we make one mold?
We need to embrace the differences because if were all the same.
Don't you think it might; get old?

Depression was a trapped door. I fell unknowlingly, unwillingly, caught beneath its shadow. But you can only cage the light for but so long.