The Girl In Me

I'm ecstatic and epigrammatic

I'm unmanageable and unperturbed.

The tomboyish attitude

Within me

Is unconcerned

About the

Curtailments promulgated

By society.

Because my inner-self

Is acquainted

Well-enough

To the limits

Of my ceiling.

People keep remarking

That

"Beautiful" is something

A girl needs to be.

Really?

Erase that.

I admit

I'm skinny, dark-complexioned

With black curly locks.

My skin is dusky, and;

My eyeballs are black;

And a keen lover

Of shoes and sneakers

Rather than sandals.

But who cares?!

I'm beautiful

In my own way!

I'm aggressive, bossy

Annoying, moody

Difficult, 'too-much'

Kind and smart.

I'm straight-forward

And my life

Is an open book

To society.

But guess what?

A part of me inside

Is a witness of

My skirmishes every day

With the pun

Of society.

I had cried alone

At nights;

Pillows were

My

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only companions

Which could hold

On my tears.

The following morning,

I rise up

As a

New substituted girl

Who believes that

Tears give

Strength and self-confidence.

I'm a package of

Everything in this universe:

Intelligence, adventure,

Talent, craziness, klutz,

Strength, weakness

And whatnot.

There are

An eternity of

Other things

To be

Other than

An 'ideal' beauty.

What's "beautiful", anyway?

It is just

A set of letters

Arranged together

To form

A word?

I've my

Own depiction of

Stunning!

I see beauty

In my eyes

That sees beauty

In the world.

After all,

Beauty lies

In the

Eyes of

The beholder.

And that's the

Chief pre-occupation

Of my inner-self!

There's a part of me

Which is masculine.

There's a part of me

Which is feminine.

Last but not least,

There's a part of me

Which you're unknown of.