Surrounded by things
That I shouldn’t see.
Because if I do
Then I’ll know I’m ugly.
Prettier than me,
Skinnier too.
Starving isn’t for depression;
I’m just feeling blue.
No matter how hard I try
I feel way too fat.
And my face, my poor face,
It needs a good zip zap.
Trying to scrub away
Who I once was.
Hair tied up a different way,
Turning claws into paws.
Though I may stay the same
At least I try hard.
So, in a way
I’ve covered up some parts that are scarred.
And in a way, I also am
The prettiest ugly, I’m almost avant-garde.
Author notes
Gah, I suck at rhymes. And I'm not even sure if "avant-garde" even works there. From my understanding it does, but still...
Comments
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Hey there
I like your poem it is a wonderful poem I think that you did a very good job on your poem -
:)
That was really good.
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