Some people are survivors
Looking to be liberated
Their self esteem is gone and incenerated
Their downfall has took it's toll
It's not the ones asking for money on the highway
It's the plasma that burns through the most
The lost excerpt of the meaning of life
Is surviving

Egos are false, they fail you, let you down.
Kick you over, leave you thinking you're better than someone else
Egos are not true, we are all equals, all equally important

Low self esteem is the same in many ways, it lets you down.
Kicks you while you're down, leaves you thinking someone else is better
Your insecurities are not true, we are all important, as well as you.

The only thing left is to be self aware and to know who you are
Become comfortable with yourself, and love yourself
And love everyone around you, including your enemies

Looking in the mirror there's so much I want to erase,
That spot on my chin, extra pounds on my face.
When I'm alone my insecurities appear,
My reasons to hide become more clear.

I wanna erase the flatness of my chest,
The feelings that I'll never be the best,
I wanna erase those lines all over my thighs,
The pain from being hurt by guys.

Combing through my hair so thin,
I know worrying about beauty is a sin.
But I can't help but think about all I want to erase,
Cuz to the world, beauty's how we survive this place.

If I was skinnier maybe he wouldn't have gone,
Maybe they would like me if my hair was long.
If my stomach had abs maybe I'd have someone to hold,
Maybe if my legs weren't as flabby, they wouldn't be so cold.

I know a God who erases every insecurity and fear,
So all of these worries will all disappear.
I was not meant to be loved by the world, only my God,
To Him I am beautiful, to the world I am odd.

So much greater is the face of God than I could ever be,
He is the face I want everyone to see.
My body is a temple from which His light will shine,
No matter what i look like, I am His: perfect and divine.

To have and to hold.
Hands turning pale and letting go.
Every possibility
that has been vanished.
Every mind that changes
may or may not feel regret.
Being myself and being me
never was or has been a chore.
Men who disapprove
are no wusses but boys.
Women who gossip about me are no
******* but girls.
I can't always fight being insecure
as it holds me like a little baby.
I find my place,
I stand like a grown up with
my eyes on the prize.
The prize isn't romance.
I wait on no prince I let the time happen.
The prize is to be loved for who I am
by the right people.
And that is all I look for.

sometimes I think
that I really need makeup
to hide me from myself
when I look in the mirror
all I see is my bad
personality
brought to life
small eyes, full of lies
full lips, I'm a *****
my mother likes to say that
I don't need makeup, that I have a nice face
but that doesn't explain away
the facts
because girls snicker at me,
boys call me crazy behind my back,
that my father calls me fat
because "he loves me
and
is
trying
to
help"
so maybe the one, two, three layers of slick and color and shine
will bar the anger and wrongness
and lack of reason or rhyme.
maybe one day i'll have the courage to wash all the makeup
away.
maybe one day

I am not a waste of space,
I am the entire solar system.

Because I don't have the time to be solely defined by colour or race.
Or my lack of religion or any such faith.
It's just not my problem: you choose to turn your hurt into hate
It's a universal solitary struggle my brutha - handle yours, it soon waste.
Koz I love my passion and my spice
And my language that breathes life,
Into me and that's who I is and will continue to grow into being.

If I get the time koz the man keeps tryin' to stop me at the sight of my race???!?!!
What an inane battle and human disgrace.

Tryin to Protect self
Whilst you Project self
When you should just Accept self

You're so ugly, you're so mean
You're the dark side of a dream
You're nothing good, you're the worst
Knowing you must make me cursed

So pitiful in your own tragedy
In this thing you call a life
Such magic in your hellish infamy
These words cut you like a knife

Yet you are me, I am you
Attached together like glue
If you think this way of us
Others must have more to fuss