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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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