Beautiful
You consider yourself average on a good day,
somewhat pretty on a whimsical day,
and downright atrocious on a bad day.
Your hair can’t decide to be straight or curly.
Your eyes are either luminous or dreary.
Your nose…too big.
Lips…to small.
Nothing looks right at all.
That’s why we have doctors.
Doctors to cure the horrible genes inflicted on you.
Doctors that can construct an artificial being,
made out of your lack of self-confidence,
and belief in self-mutilation.
Doctors that say they can make you beautiful.
Claiming that you aren’t beautiful now.
But you let them…
You let them call you ugly.
Let them plaster your face with assurances,
and guarantees.
In order to make you beautiful.
They cut your face.
Remake something that was already good,
Into something worse.
Doctors that give you a lie.
Doctors that pledge to fix something
when they mean to break it.
They say you are ugly.
You aren’t pretty.
No, you definitely are not pretty.
You’re beautiful.
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