Origins Of Beauty

There you go my friend,

No need of second thoughts,

Smile as broad as you wish to,

Don't hide that tooth that's wrought.

For the world's gonna laugh, either way.

“look...there goes Mr. Surly”, they'll say.

The realm of your wisdom,

The charm of your oration,

Are invisible to them,

You are out of fashion.

 

And there you go madam,

No need to cling to that mirror,

No need to wear that lipstick,

A colour too queer.

For the world's gonna judge you, either way

Hot red is “slutty”, wine red is “ardent”, they'll say.

The dogma of beauty,

Is too heavy to carry.

It stains your repute,

An eternal onus to tarry.

 

Have no fear , oh girl !!!

No need to stare at the ground so still.

“graphite”, “jet black”, they call you names,

Your skin being dark is not a sin.

For the world doesn't know you had no choice.

They'll grade your body, eyeless to your poise.

The spots on your skin,

Fuel their conversations,

Between victim and victimisation,

There exist an undefined adhesion.

  

To weigh sixty five kilos is a disgrace,

Too unpleasant a sight,

Acne on your face reaches them,

Faster than your aura’s light.

To scan and judge every in of your skin is their duty,

And that's how you know where dwell, the origins of beauty.

You step in the metro coach and all eyes get fixed at you,

wordlessly denouncing your choice of wearing a red sweater with  a yellow muffler.

Random people walk up to you with humble suggestions of how you can cure your acne.

Nobody cares if the world is dying of hunger,

haterd and barbarism,

yet everyone knows that a bit of aloe vera is all you need to make those scars vanish away...