Pretty Is On The Inside

I just don’t look like her.
Who,you might ask?
The ones who snap photos with camera,then drink from a flask in sorrow.

Your beauty,may I borrow?
Or will I find it in the mirror?
Then my mom came and said to me.

Honey,don’t live in jealousy.
For we all have our own features and beauty.
Maybe if I become prettier,I will see.

That pretty is on the inside.
I can change my makeup,I can change my hair.
But who will I be then?

To accept myself,how do I get there?
For pretty’s on the inside.
Inside of your own soul.

But sometimes we all feel foul.
You just don’t know how much it hurts.
To watch all those skinny models,living the dream.

Then my mom said to me.
You are pretty,believe me.
No matter chubby or petite.

No matter normal or elite.
So please,look into the mirror tonight.
You have your own charm and beauty.

And so first thing in the morning we fix our hair.
And put on the makeup that’s already there.
Who cares if you aren’t skinny?

We aren’t dolls.
Yet we let our bodies go to waste.
Some are chubby,some are petite.

Dark or light skin,what does it mean?
To fit into today’s beauty standarts?
Some have brown eyes,others blue.

Some even green or hazel ,too.
And sometimes,I don’t like myself.
Is it all in my head?

Do I need to get more sleep in bed?
Procedures,makeup.
Come on,wake up.

Because we have flesh,we aren’t dolls.
Corsets tight,crushing ribs and organs to look good.
Implants,skincare.

But you already have beauty on the inside.
Because I know,that deep down you are a kind person.
Come on,show off that body.

Don’t listen to anybody.
Because the beauty is already inside me.