Waves crash over The coral in the sea Everyone sees the beauty But doesn't realize They're alive
They are the homes of fish Sometimes fish leave and never Come back And sometimes they leave for a Couple years and come back
In a way people are like fish They leave forever or vanish for a little while
The coral, the homes, They are the beautiful people No, not the models, the cheerleaders, no The beautiful are the ones hurting The ones others call weak, When they're stronger than most The beautiful are the ones Who do their best to look like the models When they don't need to The beautiful are the ones with Scars on their thighs, wrists, ankles, stomach Which one am I? I'm one of the beautiful I'm not being prideful or anything I have proof And it's not fake believe me There's things that qualify you As being a beautiful one As one of us.
I wrote this recently and for some it might be a lot to take on, but it makes you think of what the standards in this world do to people. People just trying to live, trying to be normal.