What does Snow White see,
When she looks in the mirror?
Does she like what she sees, freely?
Or does she, like me, look
With dismay, and say,
"Oh, my skin is not as white,
As yesterday, I won't go out and play
Today, I will stay in and away,
Because people will say 'she's not so fair'."
It's not fair that weight of expectation,
and the wait for ultimate perfection.
I don't mean to be political or minimise minorities in this poem. I am sensitive to such racial concerns.