I could have swore I put this one on here already, but maybe I didn't. Originally meant for spoken word but I never had the courage to get up on a stage and speak it at an actual reading... Which ironically led me to writing the previous poem as I was about to post this one.
Where the Beauty is
where the beauty is?
why do we only see the beautiful ones on display,
perfect as complete perfection, photo/makeup/cosmetic correction can make them stay...
replay, forever young, caught in some perpetual still life like on a canvas,
flawless, braless with ever perky nipples and bright white teeth polish,
bronzed skin and too tight everything, my god how the world must sing
whenever they strut their shit all around and bring
the rest of us less than perfect ones down by saying... nothing
according to the magazines, there go my dreams,
all in a too fat, too flat, where the fuck's my shit at,
reality in play, myself is where I stay,
stuck, in 6 weeks you can be like them, in six months you can be like her,
in 6 years you'll be like you... cause that's the cards we're played,
the genetic makeup, life breakup, reality shakeup is
that the impossible really is just that,
the beautiful really are just that,
and inside I'm just that
so wake up all you magazine covers, look up and take notice all you trend setters,
stuck up, rich bitch, fake ass, wanna be real but gotta fake it fuckers
this... is where the beauty is
~Shery Lore
8-1-05
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