On being born with a darker shade of fair
Or being blessed with a scary scar on the face….
A being is merely deprived
Of being called ‘Beautiful’ and ‘Pride’….
Why is it
That we still let live such stereotypes….
Where beauty holds a single definition
‘A good looking face and it’s types’….
Why do we amuse and sneer the pitches with patches
And pity the unwanted troughs and pimples….
While we consider moon as a symbol of beauty
Along with the reason for multiple smiles and dimples….
And how is it the fault
Of an acid-attack victim or an accident-struck angel….
To be termed ‘ugly’ and ‘disgrace’
And left alone to face the Society’s tantrum and tangle….
If happy or sad
Is what matters the most….
If alive or dead
Is what differentiates human and a ghost….
Then there’s no stopping
By this Baloney stuff….
“I am beautiful”, is the only necessary thinking
If you want to be something more valuable than just a bluff….
Beauty is a short lived tyranny.
So rather focusing on being the most beautiful, think of building your stature in such a way that not even time’s magic would be able to erase or decade it….