Skinnier waist and a prettier face? Does not my personality shape my waist Does the bitterness of this ugly desperation abbreviate a more a sweeter appreciation Does my hair, Be not gold So I cannot be bold? Or my eyes. Be not blue. Or my skin, Fit not of colour chart approval? The legs that enable me to walk that I so much hate, may serve a more neglected fate. All the thoughts a mind can process, shall be which of sure debate, Not but of the demons which it creates.
I wrote this on a long car journey on holiday in France