Where is my beautiful princess?
In the darkest trenches mom
Hiding from the perfect world
For I am not so strong
To bear the agony
of being defamed
What crime have I committed if I have a bulgy frame?
I am not assertive enough
To handle the mockery at every stage
I remain confined to my nutshell
For they are ashamed of my ugly visage
My meritorious possessions call me Anna
But I think they all lie
Monster,giant ,fatso ugly
Are the names the perfect folks call me by
When I fall down,they ask how's the floor?
Being the floor's well-wishers they need to be sure
"Dont dance or run or the earth will shake"
Can I really cause an earthquake?
Their words perforate my heart ,shatter my confidence and tear my soul apart
I am liable to greet all this and not complain
For if I dare to raise my voice,i will be derided again
Am I allowed to question the smug faced society
For since eternity I am in dubiety
That for how long and for how many
Will their appearance be their identity?
YOU ARE READING
Vexatious Imperfections
Não FicçãoA question to every "perfect" person and an answer to all the "imperfects"....
