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  • What is Beauty?

    Many times I am told I am pretty

    And I guess according to society I am

    long blond hair

    Blue eyes

    Skinny with raised check bones

    But it all feels like a mute point

    My Beauty comes from inside

    My eyes light up as people I love surround me

    My hair flows from seeing others happy

    My smile gets wide as those around laugh with me

    That being said, my soul is no beauty queen winner

    Days my face screams foul words

    My sad, stressed thoughts cause blemishes

    Bags appear as I am less and less able to leave my bed

    Yet I am still classified as a pretty girl

    What superficial qualifications do I surpass

    With my

    Wide nose, round face, and square chin

    Is it that my heart hates my face?

    Can I only see through the facial to my soul?

    Just as I only see my imperfect face, I only see the broken mangled being living within

    If my mind is in shambles who cares about my face?

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