I look in the mirror,
And what do I see?
A nose the size of Jupiter
A mouth that looks like I swallowed a train
And hair that would only look good if the afro came back
A So-Called
Disaster
With clothes that always seem too tight,
And thighs that could double as hams
I feel so far away from
So-Called
Perfection
I may be 13, but I still have the face of a 2 year old.
I know they say it matters what’s on the inside, and
A size doesn’t make a person,
But what am I to do in a world where
Beauty triumphs brains
And you want to be some plastic thing
On the cover of a magazine
The world is so distant from
So-Called
Reality