I want to find a way
To be pretty
For the USA.
I am more than my eye color.
More than my skin tone.
Underneath the mask I wear
Is a being that looked upon the world
And thought,
"This is not enough."
The soul knows better, but the flesh is used to the rough conditions we are kept in. Trapped in our skin. Trapped in our looks. Trapped in our insecurities. The judging eyes of others are hooks reeling me in towards their predispositions and maligned visions.
No one seems to see,
I am not the me they think I am.
I'm more than anyone could've ever imagined.