Lookism, is not a phase And much like racism, it just can't change Genetically cursed to live as lacklustre I'm a moth, I'm not a butterfly who flutters
You look at me through society's lenses, yet we're the same We're all so basic, yet feel high enough to blame They insult you, to the point you wonder why you came When you don't fix yourself they perceive you as "lame"
And the worldview of beauty is truly some mistake Why should we bother struggling we're not the ones they take
"Too fat, too weird, too bland, too short" Can't seem to understand but I just don't reach the court "Too placid, too queer, can't stand, we underhand" Does anybody fit into the small % of insatiable? Unattainable We long for that which hates us,Β Β the only feeling sustainable
We will never see that viewpoint of the "gods" With over-sexualised individuals with irresistible bods We compare ourselves to the principles of mold We hate everyone as a result as we slowly get cold
Here's a short riddle
Ugly ducking, he's a duck who was a goose But he was amongst a few ducks so he went loose His very own kind couldn't love him for his looks He wasn't "different" as they used him and abused him with their hooks
Even the animal kingdom believes in hierarchy You're not unique, or special, you're feelings locked in a sepulchre It's not your race, your manners, your personality or your culture
Look at yourself and find your own beauty Don't stoop to seeking simple pleasures, wondering "Are they into me?"
a poem about society and how looks tend to triumph all