Self Esteem

Self esteem is a made up thing.

Paint your face.

Lose weight.

What’s the point of it? 

Does being pretty make you a better person?

Do you live a better life?

Do you lay in bed enchanted by your own face?

Do you sleep better at night?

Because beauty’s only skin deep,

what happens when they look underneath

And find all your ugly you tried desperately to hide

You buried it deep inside.

Someday they’ll find out who you are 

What will save you then?

Your shoes, your hair, your car?

What I’m trying to say is you can perfect your surface, your outer layer, your skin,

But eventually someone will be curious to look deep within

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This poem is about: 
Our world

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