Posted in Artwork, Poem

Horrors Of The Female Body

Media: pencils, 2B and 5B

Each morning she would wake up to a dream-

A dream so deluded with perfection

Ball gowns and dainty glass slippers scattered across her boudoir

Alas! It would vanish opening her eyes to the difficulties and the forbidden realities.

She stood in front of the mirror-

Thinking of the norms of beauty

She skipped a heartbeat or two

As the realisation dawned upon her that she was hideous-

Or was it her vision for the eye to be pleased that she fained to redeem with!

Each noon she would come across women-

Frivolous and jittery; dispersed all along in a fashion too random

To her a few were pretty; And a few blatantly ugly.

Each night she would go home

Undressed- standing in front of the mirror yet again

She knew she wasn’t perfect

Analysing herself from head to toe-

She felt captured by her endless flaws

Her expression would shrink to that of personified melancholy

All she wished for was a procrastinated meet with the horrors of the female body.

Author:

I don't create content. I pour my soul.

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