A woman doesn't look
In the same mirrors you do.
Her mirrors are slaves
To the kingdom of insecurities..
And with her tears they pay their dues.
When age was just a digit,
Her face, it seemed right.
But one day she just forgot
And looked around for admiring eyes..
As ideas of beauty stood defiled overnight.
She can win outside , but within no more.
'Cause every time she stops inner censure,
The voices outside sound a battle cry..
Yet again, uprooting her worth -
Making her imperfections too cruel to endure.
So listen, and listen hard:
These words I say as every woman you meet
If you are the comment meant to make her feel
"fat"
If you are the mirth that she wilts before
Leave, for you simply do not see how lovely she
is.
Leave, because her own voice is enough
To make her mind too blurry for truth,
To fool her into worshipping convention.
Leave, if you have a sharp eye for flaws..
Know that she can't look "perfect";
and neither can you.
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