They call it this, they call it that,
But there's always more to what they're saying,
They have a drug for every imperfection,
But their words are constantly betraying.
They don't like my complexion,
So they try to fix my face,
With lies and dissection,
But I just feel replaced.
They don't understand my problem,
And think I'm a lost cause,
They think I'm nothing,
Because of my flaws.
YOU ARE READING
Poems: A Tour Through My Mind
PoetryFull of the feelings I can't explain in any other way. I hope they help you to read just as much as they help me to write. Welcome to the tour! Thank you. #83 in poetry 6/22/2015
