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, 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