poetry

Beauty Myth

By Amy Thomson

 

 

Luscious lips

mascara tears

hourglass hips

heart full of fears.

 

Waste your time

Painting your face.

Give your last dime

to win first place.

 

You compete

to win men’s hearts.

Females to beat,

the battle starts.

 

Not for jobs,

leave that to men.

Choke down your sobs

to be a ten.

 

Time is now,

you’re getting old,

forgetting how

to do as told.

 

Hairy pits

and prickly thighs,

lopsided tits

defy the lies.

 

Cellulite,

dimples galore,

shells of delight

on beauty shore.

 

I insist,

put up a fight,

we must resist,

women unite.

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