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They say to not care what they say They say to not care about what they think They say it's okay to stand out But what they don't understand Is it is exactly they
looking in the mirror it’s hard for me to see it’s hard for me to see myself for who i want to be. do you see me, the beauty that lies beneath? do you see my smile shining so bright?
For the man with a son who still looks like a child himself. he writes silly notes and always has candy in his pockets. How can somebody so young have the eyes of an old man.
"Compare yourself to you". "Look for your heart on your sleeve". Through the lips of my compass.
Stale makeup and Rotting laughter Broken race cars that couldn’t go any faster. Fermenting anger and Broken smiles How far can we go Looking perfect all the while.
A jack of all trades but a master of noneSkilled in plenty but always out doneBy those who mastered their craft and tradeLeaves this world with no legacy made
Our faces bounced off of every wall, as well as the bodies of many with faces of despise, Some of theirs would shrink and some of theirs would swell
Next time I look in the mirror, I’m just gonna try to see me Not some superficial image of who they want me to be. If my eyes are deep dark brown, that’s what my momma gave me If my lips are kind of full, well
This is for the girls who believe the number on the scale, determines whether they are beautiful or not. This is for the men who don’t fit in the role of “tough man,” that media portrays them to be.
A regular day filled with talking and laughing, joking and gossiping Always done with a fake grin plastered on Teens argue, insult, bully, tease, and intimidate But if anyone asks, life is great
The business of show The business of show is a strange thing I know, It lives for a yes but then kills with a no It asks for your heart but your image it owns
Is this the face that launch’d a thousand ships? Doth Helen envy likely grace within?My joy, thou should’st be sin; thy lovely lipsDo tender kiss my face and all therein;Be so the cause of shipwrecks in thy way
moonlight is so bright but what does it sound like? it sounds like the nights where you muffled cries it sounds like the nights where there was nothing to do but sigh but sometimes
Dear You, This is my least favorite part of my day. I can never escape her eyes. And my body can never escape her judgments. "Bent, broken, barbed" That's all she seems to say as her nails
I glance at my self in the mirror. My image is as usual.
In the depths of the reflected light You can catch a glimpse, a girls' shadow It's a sight you can't overlook With her eyes so hollow and haunted Concealing within a ghastly narrative
Plain moths. We follow the light Never daring to touch it Filters on our eyes, Seeing things That are far from the truth Oblivious to realize the facts. She came swiftly then.
I am a piece of art. The color of my skin My eyes color and size My hair color and style My size in weight and visual My height, short nor tall I am the art of reality.
A slow and steady rainfall Bringing life to those around The ache in your stomach from laughing too much Bittersweet in itself The vast ocean with parts unseen
Your voice haunts me. Your image dances in my head. I cannot escape this feeling that's been filling me with dread. I am in a constant cycle of anxiety and despair, 'cause every time I go to sleep,
We have nothing to say But we can sure sound cute My generation has got a brand new pair of boots And we're not taking em off
To tell a story of the famed Knight Hawk Listen whilst I remember, recall Ready not yourself for a tale of sweet For he was never such a declious trait Knight Hawk began as a boy of late
To be beautiful To be hot To have a skinny waist To have a six pack To have a Kim Kardashian butt To have a baseball players' rear
You picture me behind the curtain, scheming with Oz. I wonder if when you see me, you greet the person you imagine me to be. How awkward that I have little resemblance to the ghostly image Which haunts me now.
Put the camera to my face, The world is just an image. I can capture what I want, And leave out all the baggage. Put the camera to my face, The world is just an image.
Pastel masks of perfection designed to improve our disturbing reflection. Made too thick to look past, it's such a necessity for some the marks will last. It morphs into our skin,
I am who I am And I want to have sex You’re telling me no But my body says yes Society built an image Tall, thin and pretty
Foundation, eye shadow, eyeliner Some of the products used by many The clothes that society says look good are designer Am I the only one that finds jeans on clearance at JcPenny?
I'm not sure I like my reflection;He looks at me funny.There's something in his eyesThat boasts he knows me too well.And I just don't trust him-I think my secrets he might tell.
I don't like it when people say you have a soul
There is something to be said about dragging dead weight through a claustrophobic hall way -every day- with nothing but the bags on your back
This skin does not belong to me it is merely borrowed. A place in which I only temporarily reside. My skin is not yet finished. My time has not yet come. But it will.
The cannons resound.Their deafening ringing smothers my voiceSilences my questioning thoughtsLeaves only the orders I was given.
of few things I am certain.
The lens of her minds eye is tinted
Your body is not a temple; it's a tree. Equipt with branches for limbs and leaves for all the little in betweens. Trees are meant to grow strong for years and years with their roots consistently reaching further.
Here but never seen Hide behind the camera I am a coward Stuck in a small world Yearning for new adventures
As a young woman it seems my body serves threat to my soul. My body making up me; unqiue. Curved and straight and flat and wide and thin and all, is my own.
Opportunities aren’t abound for women like me My face has been stepped on My history utterly destroyed They haven’t fared well If one can imagine them left in my position at birthIf our lives were switched
Through the glass I look Searching for some answer Faces slanted into an opaque distortion Everywhere I gaze
I am happy as a cloudas loud as a rainbowas soft as a breeze
I sometimes I wish was blind and in a perfect world as you as my image.
Whirl your pointed pines
In a world where people are periodically posting pics and sending selfies to fellow citizens, there is a surprising amount of self hate surrounding the subject.
When I look in the mirror what do I see? I see brown hair and hazel eyes, I see a crooked smile, freckles everywhere, I see reasons people call me 'Katniss.' But take all that away,
This is to the camera, that sees me as nothing but Delicate bones and pearly whites My essence captured through awkward captions and My worth measured by likes and heart bytes
When you look at the world What do you see? Do you view your food and friends in Mayfair and Valencia? Your wasting your time deciding which accent makes your skin look tan
Who am I without any of those filters or fake edits? Well I am me I am someone who is naturally beautiful yet goofy all by my personal line of credit I am someone with flaws just like anyone else
Maybe I'm crazy and insane. Maybe we are not the same. But now I know what I see. Every time you look at me. It's innocence, That light. A light that shines through any dark night. And tho you are far away. These words I still have to say.
When I take a picture I smile and stare at my relfection. My mind wonders if they will like it if they will see me the way I see me.
What do you see,When you look in the mirror?You see you,And I see me.We are different,That is perfect,And how it's supposed to be.
Who do I become
Excuse me, But i'm just tryna get your attention from this world of mixed dimensions And worthless misconceptions engulfing the perceptions that I am not beautiful You see,
so midless and numb; i remember the feeling of blades on my skin
When I was five I wanted to be a princess.
I am a woman who can do it all Even though I am so small I have so much potential because I know most of the essentials
In and from this world what do we really want?
If you asked me to name your beauty, I would say you are a sky.
Blood as red as a rose They said death was something that you just chose Truthfully it chose you
It's the glisten at the light, That small glimmer of a perfectionist. The dark waves and the pale surface, a red sea with murky waters. It falls to the arches, it caresses to the skin.
I'm broke. In all aspects. Like the faucet in the projects dripping, that's waiting to be fixed, while the landlord's getting his fix. All white. All rock. In veins. In vain.
GoPro cameras and Selfie Sticks, our ancestors would be horrified. But it doesn’t matter because fabricated images, and fraudulent stories are glorified. What’s wrong with putting your best self out there?
My hair is thinning My skin is almost pale My life is nothing like a fairytale I am of the average height Contacts help me see what's in sight I look for depth in everyone
Hey I do not do this often but your beautiful and was hard to pass up, The dimples in her cheeks filled like waves of emotion
No Filter. More than just a recognizable hashtag on social media. Use this to prove a point?
I see stars. See in them what I am capable of I see a heart. Broken in between happiness like hope I see void. In this I have come to rest I don’t see myself. I see a mirror. In this fractal misrepresentation,
Fighting fire with fire Is not very wise But when overcome with hatred Sadness and Demise Eyes get set on erasing Ultimately defacing A person to a thing Losing its self as a being
She's pretty. No matter how she styles her hair, No matter what clothes she wears, As long as she smiles. So am I.
Fabulous Ha! I love that word Eight letters, three snaps Fa-bu-lous
Shame on you Filter! For hiding my little mole that I have on my left side
No one else Under its scrutiny Its light Because you are under it All of your faults on display Just out there Exposed And for EVERYONE to see But you must show them
I'm not wanting the stereotypes,
Looking into the mirror, Wiping away the tears. A new day is ahead And a new face appears. No one can see past The cover that is shown, But nobody really understands What is called the unknown.
My thighs stretch out across the seat when I sit.
I once knew a girl in Junior high , With pretty eyes but kind of shy, her voice was sweet and smooth like butter, But when people saw her they thought nothing of her; She had one friend who she met in elementary,
The mirror cracks with broken glass unable to hold the lies that are told everything plastic thought as attractive the soulless has worth we're told to convert what is to live
Your morning breath blew beautifully A familiar funk stuck on the windowsill I’d steal this stench and drench my windowpanes repetitiously
Exact image shown in a different light Image relected back to you shows you the way others view you.
FakeA descriptor built from uncertainty and accusations Tailored to those who do not fit regulations or expectations - freaks Used by those who do not understand anyone and those who wish to understand themselves.
Worn in my face, blood, Though her soil as yet unseen, Is Italy mine?
IMAGE Image is a strong word for girls and guys both. It's not the word of the bird, but the sense of the matter. It's about what you can afford,
I am Bill Gates At least I wish to beileve that's true A high school drop out with fantasies that explains If he can do it I can do it too
Fat A word that tears at my throat and breaks the dams in my eyes Stretch marks Battle wounds from a battle that I lost with myself Fat
Look at those girls in the magazine!
If beauty is in the eye of the beholder, Are the standards of today a consensus? Does everyone really agree as to What's out and what's in Glamour versus sin Too fat versus too thin?
A free me breathes in the air As I spread my wings As I sing and as I scream For joy No less I put my wings To the test And fly. And soar. And go through The open door
Down the ground lookin' so low All i want to know will I go high, so high that I cant touch the ground? Stuck in this cage with ties that i cant abound I want to be more than this with my uniquness
You with the faces. JUST STOP ALREADY. Cry if you wanna cry. Yell if you're angry. Punch me in the face if I say something wrong. Looking at me with those blank eyes and smiling cheeks pisses me off.
She waits there waiting for the time she has been waiting for, to be forgotten was not her choice from every point of view she has been with a smile that never disappears.
When I look at myself in the mirror and think that I could destroy the world and graffiti the sky all in a single day I leave my makeup drawer untouched and wear bright red converse
Here I stand with nothing of my own, Everything was given to me from the start. Standing on an empty road I must take this path alone, Watching everything fall apart.
They're selling "dreams" for the price of your soul. Wrapped in pretty green paper,
This is my attempt at a spoken word piece. Not finished. But, its how I want to start and end it. Tell me what you think...
I don't seem to get the meaning in making more meek men suffer man made rules Its a never ending cycle of tips and tunes and steps and breaks Eyeing the moving hands,
Girl stands alone in her bathroompleading for solace.Eyes lock on the mirror,the reflection of a girl with possibilities a mere stain.She is there,she exists,in every corner that Girl turns.
It is hard to define Perfection Still, society struggles to be the reflection Perfection
I look in the mirror And see the reflection of my papa’s heritage My Scandinavian father’s father’s father Towers over me smiling His eyes, swimming in brilliant colors, Show me his-story
The girl in the mirror always wanting to differ. Wanting to be slim , not wanting to suffer. But that girl in the mirror, is not really me. She is of my imagination, what I believe I see.
the thing I would change is my very own image why, you may ask is because others make me feel like garbage but it's not just me if you look around, it's others too you see the thing about today
Steel rafts of ocean hands Pearl into icy depths Piercing through its smooth skin Breaking the shocks of energy Through thick blue
Lets write poetryAllow my words to penetrate your linesSoftly whisper the scratches of pen on paperuntil I have fully covered you in inkAllow me to be your guide
This is for you.
Along with the Thespians and the Thieving Traveled the Thinker, boisterously singing Songs with the lot of them, stopping only To laugh at herself and at their lonely,
i dream of happier days:before the cell phone,her now-constant companion.before computers, iPods.before she caredabout how she looks.about fitting in,conforming.back when a night light
Our education system has got to do better. I know nothing is perfect, but we can not go on like this forever. Kids using profanity instead of the intellect God gave them.
People of different ages, genders, and identities stare into their reflections;
Your image is You, this is how God made you, He made you His Child, Whether in good condition or not, you're still you; Your image shows personality, it shows what you have as a human being, who cares if people make fun of you, that's who you are
I wrote this for the purpose of an inspirational video.The impact of the piece isn't as great unless you SEE it. Please check it out as you listen and read along. Copy this link into your browser,
Filthy hands shine in the light of the beautiful pain. Glistening in the promise sin offers to gratify the mind’s desires. Relief from the pain in frozen blood cries out. Trembling.
Let me be me Stop criticizing every move I make Stop judging me, without fair play You make me out to be the villain Though I am the victim For years you acted out
Inside, they consume me the words of society filled with rejection My heart aches and throbs as I'm wrapped in the image of pure pefection Yet I can not grasp
Looking in the mirror I see a girl... I'm watching her scream I'm rewinding her dreams I'm watching her cry I'm practically watching her die I sit back and watch as she tries to wipe the tears from her eyes.
she walks the halls but doesnt speak the pain is voiced by the tear on her cheek her beauty and innocence corrupted by others who point and laugh at the skin she covers a boy who sits alone and cries
I look in the mirror I wish I could see what you see Skin so pale I could illuminate the dark Curves in all the wrong places Acne that covers my face Oh the joy of being a teen Hair that frizzes
Size 0..next..1..next.. 2..next..3 ..next.. 4..5.. wait wheres the rest?
Sailing in the waters of which You wept, You sees a Light in the distant of the cove, a Light that Reality would refer to as a dead end. The Light fades, then flares, fades,
The bones they scream in volumes that grow I hear them begging to show They want to press pass the barriers They want me to learn “no” It scares me as much as it thrills me To take it all in and see
you like girls withlong, flowing hairhair that twists and turns and flows as the breezeflicks it and it danceshair that shines and sparkles and
What do you see when you look at me Is it my body? My curves, my fine physique Now look me in my eyes and tell me what do you see. A girl with low self-esteem and insecurities
Must it be this way The consistent blame of 'media' Why am I not allowed to love me? The constant reminder that I'm still in remedial Perhaps this is meant to be - a shell of what I used to love
Beauty is unreachable Love is just a game Lies become believable Others thrive off of our pain
the mirror reflects my image i see all flaws no light am i really like this is this what others see?
My mom calls me perceptive because I’m good at finding the cracks in the plaster but in the end I’m no faster when it comes to determining the truth in every façade. What I mean to say is I’m a lot like you
In the midst of the gale I found myself, helpless and pale A girl called Aanu, censorious of the image Staring back at her in the mirror, the horror of her own visage
Please do not judge me on my face My religion or my race Don't judge me on my hair Where I live or what I wear Don't judge me on how I look Or even the way I cook
His porcelain skin & wiry brown hair, His rosy cheeks & baby blue eyes, The cotton jacket With matching leather shoes & stiff cap. Always at attention, like a soldier
A pasted on smile, stretched over bleached white teeth Perfect skin, clean and bright Perfect body, toned, tanned, and fit Perfect hair, straighted and dyed THESE are robot girls, ripped from glossy pages.
Who am I to think I’m beautiful?Disproportionate at every angle, my figure is shaped like that of a pear’s.And any claims to beauty seem to be rare,because I can hardly stand the sight of my body bare.
These words are mine,Written before you as they are me,Saying nothing yet saying something,About whom I am and claim to be.The interworkings of a mind sheltered,Shielded by my skeleton and skin.
When I was little I loved to rhyme and carry paper and pencil in hand Sadly, momma discouraged me saying crunch numbers, math is in demand However literature and poetry have always been my muse
when you look at me what you see darskin ,brown eyes and sandy brown hair\ do see a big smile, with dark lips someone thats not that tall but stand so tall and proud all the time
Lost inside something That doesn’t exist, Huddled in the corner, Hiding my face. Broken to pieces, Glued back together.’ Stolen from my mind, That piece that’s missing
Skin deep I'm blond, so I must be dumb, but my mind whirls faster than most. Skin deep I wear skirts, so I'm a crazy conservative, but I'm quite liberal. Skin deep I'm not skinny,
By Chanda Bynum I see this girl And she is a girl with straightforward eyes and blank expressions. The Maker has sculpted curvaceous hips and thighs into her gene pool
I write to know that I am alive, I write to know that I feel... the pain, the loss, the sadness, the love...within the pages as they are inked. Imprinting what is real. The memories. I withold may fade over time.
What is beauty? Well if I were to give the simplest definition I’d say you. What is beauty?
Beauty is not so skin deep That it can't be touched by a mouse on the screen of a nation screaming for a change As they reach inside to push the self-destruct button
Dear young woman on the other end of the computer screen,
Blankly she stares out, Wide-eyed at the broken world. Trying not to scream and shout, Yearning to be a normal girl.
Every day is Halloween.Put on my costume,Put on my face.Double check, Triple check to make sure I look happy.
From the outside they see a hardworking businessman, a wife that seems like she was plucked from the 1950's and a teenager full of bliss and happiness, but no one knows what happens when the doors close.
I saw her today for the first time She seemed like she had existed for quite a while Her face always a smile, a laugh on her tongue
I am 20 years young With the power of a king I am you And you are me But we're all the same if you read between. Oh no Wait just a minute Did he say that I know he didn't
Mirrror, mirror on the wall why must we look at ourselves through you and bawl? Why can't we always see our true beauty? What wicked games you play, tricking our minds this way! If I break you will I really have 7 years of bad luck?
We wish upon a shooting star, just to change who we are Gaze among the stars so bright, just so we can see the light
I don’t know much about the world, economy, politics and what not I didn’t know about slavery or racism at all for that matter I didn’t know about Martin Luther King’s dream and how the conquest for Civil Rights
Her left hand rests palm-down against the mirror,this hand is relaxed in comparison to her fluttering mind.Who am I? She wonders.
Mirrors and mind contort what I see, Skinny and thin is what I must be; 86 pounds just isn’t enough, Starving myself is going to be tough.
Another glance into the mirror Another day, another year A coarse example of the person Who is hiding under there
Day by day I face an internal outcry that rages My mind never silent I dream word of worry I wake with panic Day by day I am forced to face life in an undeveloped body I am judged for my emotions
I'll start walkin' your way, You start walkin' mine. Best friends forever, No matter how far away. We'll find the means To stay that way. I'll start walkin' your way, You start walkin' mine.
Remember when you were young and everything was…perfect? Ugh. The word stings both tongues and ears. Perfect…ha. There’s no such thing as “perfect.” It’s an idea, infectious and taunting.
Your eyes are small and round They thin when you smile See—liquid brown is their color, hated by most loved by me. • Loving you is-
Some tears say I’m sorry Some beg please look at me. Some tears ask just hold me. Some tears say leave me please. Some tears say help me… when I feel alone.
what should I do which side to pick in this battle in my mind that’s killing me inside my heart chooses one society chooses one and I pick one and I pick wrong and I know it’s wrong
Pursuing that which I desire, With strong will on my side, I never tire, Forever in love I am, With people, With knowledge, With all of man, But my mind knows no bounds,
dissappointment in her eyes as she cries looking at her ugly reflection, disgust at her thighs an ache from what she ate making her a little bigger than the skinnier girl, and she wonders why people like me hate
my reflection is looking at me she’s examining every part her body I watch as tears fill her eyes she’s an abomination
Bandaids swirl around the sugar bowl Brightly colored strips wearing white textures A warm and worn comforter Cocoa and petals inside motivation Salt-flavored showers drain while blossoms begin stretching wide
I felt myself drifting flying soaring All eyes on me, my mask adhered, my smile plastered, on plastic face. What’s this feeling?
I felt the frost on my tongue, because I was growing young and the sun didn't shine from the words I spoke. I kissed a flower as I smelled a delicate perfume and walked in a cold garden among a cold world.
Every day she stares into her bathroom mirror for hours, questioning who it really is that is staring back.
Fear, such a small word yet it’s a huge feeling. Fear is something I am experiencing. I’m afraid to let my guard down only to be shot down again.
I see you looking down Wearing a classic frown I try acting like a clown; But still your forlorn mounds It is true silence does confound To darkness you are bound But I want you back!
I Am The Waves In The Ocean And The Roots Of The Trees. I am wind and thunder and rain. I am the image of my father, Kemet. I am soil and breath and soul. I am Africa personified. In the way I walk
Success they say is in the eye of the beholder But my beholder ignores the fire, recognizes only the smolder My fire burns a different way and a different color Because my thinking is just so unlike any other