Cynical Hearts, I Am A Work Of Art


Looking at my reflection,

I detest the word perfection.

My hair is a house to my cats

favorite living food,

and my eyes are not even close to

any shade of blue.

My perception of myself is decided

by the girls in the magazines.

Well not today. Not anymore.


Piercings make me trashy?

Good to know.

I’ll be sure to consult you

the next time I want the photoshop glow.

I’m done conforming to your views.

I am myself, no one else.


“You’re not pretty unless you’re a size two”

Tell me why,

the world thinks like this.

Can’t we please

throw away ignorance?

I don’t know about you,

but I’d much rather be who I am,

than try to make this twisted society

accept my stupid scam.


I’m who I want to be.

Who cares if it’s not lovely?

The world is beautiful,

even with messed up parts.

So why do people,

have to hide their scars?

Are you really telling me,

that a bunch of cynical hearts,

make us believe,

that we’re not works of art?

Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 


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