Downgrading someone’s beauty because of the shade of their skin?
That’s like loathing a flower for the colour of its pigment.
Lessening someone’s attractiveness because of the texture of their hair?
That’s like telling a tree “Your leaves are too bare!”
Measuring a woman’s “hotness” on a scale of one to ten?
That’s like whispering to a meadow “You’re too fat for me to befriend.”
To tell me I’m not beautiful because I resemble ivory not,
Or because my hair is not long, not silky, not straight, but in knots,
Or because I’m not the “All-American Girl” or humanity’s definition of “hot,”
This way of thinking is a damn shame, and ought to be stopped.
Because we’re all gorgeous, no matter what shade, shape, size, or weight,
Just like blooming flowers, we all have innate beauty, worthy to appreciate.
Next time you think of underscoring another’s flaws,
Cease the jabber of your jaws and ask yourself, “Like Snow White, am I the fairest one of all?
Am I fair and without flaw?
Am I fairest: a cause for awe?”
Not fairest in skin tone, or hair colour, or best in terms of physique,
But in the depths of your beating heart, are you fair? Are you meek?
Say as you please, but a lie is surely for the weak,
To not answer this truthfully is to withhold the rarest form of beauty that the world must seek.