You look broken- hearted, teary eyed at the covers of a magazine,
With eyes wide, you exclaim, "Oh my! I will never be such a beauty Queen!
"Oh that pretty face! I would **** to be her!" ,you begin to wish,
A second later, you let out a sad sigh, rating yourself a mere *******.

But why is it, that your own reflection , you hate?
Is it because of what you see everywhere, a beauty that is fake?
Did you forget, oh my pretty little ,insecure thing,
That you are His creation, a beautiful state of being?

Are you insecure about the whites and reds that ,
covers any 'beautiful' 'perfect' women's face?
Then, what is your say about that genuine smile,
that needs no make up, and improves your grace?

Are you scared , because people throw accusing glares at you,
The ones that accuse you, of being a person of words few?
Then, wouldn't you like to answer them with your eyes,
pretty as always as they are, for they even speak out volumes?

You sob to yourself because you are not the 'Size Zero' type,
and because it is the latest trend, too much of which is a hype?
But, what about those noble hands, and a loving heart,
That you are gifted with, for love is what they impart?

It is true that, beauty does count for something in life,
But, why to achieve something superficial, should there be a strife?
All you need in life, oh my pretty little, insecure thing,
is the inner beauty, that spreads love, my beautiful state of being!