Wherever I look is a woman.
A beautiful one,
Gorgeous, majestic, stunning, breathtaking!
Oh, she is.
But no good book is left unopened,
No good book is unshared and preserved,
I wonder,
What does she think?
What has she felt?
Who is she?
God forbid she knows not of her beauty,
Her worth and her mind,
Her power and her significance.
Art of women,
Sculptures, scriptures, paintings and drawings,
Naked, desirable, pure, beautiful,
Perfect.
Her breasts are lovely,
Round, soft, pink and upright.
Her waist is thin,
Her hair is new,
Her skin clear like aqua.
What is woman?
What is woman to man?
A treasure?
An artwork?
A pleaser?
Who is she?
I am a girl,
Soon to be a woman.
Will my breasts like theirs?
Will my waist snatch and belly disappear?
Will my hair be new?
Will my skin be dew?
Will I be desirable?
Will I become a pretty woman?
Pretty woman,
Pretty, gorgeous women,
We all have stories of our own,
But at the end of the day,
We are art to be judged,
Preserved, sold and showed.
Forever.
____________________________________________________________
Sometimes... I just wanna be accepted before my body is shown.
What do you think about this poem?
Don't forget to vote or comment, it gives me motivation :)
Have a lovely day!
YOU ARE READING
Poems 🥀
PoetryA book of poems; a collection. About what? A young teenager just wanting a happy life.
