Ruddy, thats what they call my complexion

A mix of pure white and dots

I am calico

The contours of my body are softly proportioned

 a little extra here and there but I am muscled 

I am strong  

My figure, they call it hourglass 

but I don't fit the bill for beauty

Unlike Miss Monroe I wasn't graced with pretty blonde hair and money

I have ginger hair 

made up of all hues of orange, red and yellow

like dull fire


The old ladies outside of walmart think so

but I hardly believe Cover Girl would take a second look at my headshot

Grey, green and blue my eyes are the color of a raging sea when you look closely

but from far away they are faded like concrete.

Isn't that just grand?

Models on catwalks

you can see them from a mile away 

bright lipstick 

bleach blond hair


then add on layers of photoshop, crop it and you have


or Beauty by our societies definition

which they are

which I am

which we all are 

someone once said to me that 

"we can't all be beautiful"

but they have missed the point

Thats is what ugly really is

yes we are human

we judge 

but I don't remember god making a list of what the perfect person should look like

from the birth of this world beauty has "changed"

But in reality it is always constant

its perception

if we percievce differently

beauty is then different 

No one is the same

yet we all have that one thing in common

when we confine a word and make it singular

we exclude a part of being human

We shape young girls to believe it because we believe it ourselves

but we hold more the power to change it

we hold the defintion in our hands

no fashion magazine can tell us what we are 

unless we accept it for ourselves

So I have chosen to at least accept myself

I have changed MY definition 

I am unflitered beautiful

for now


This poem is about: 
Our world


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