Take her pretty upturned nose,
And fake complexion colored rose.
Full red lips, waist too thin,
Melt her down and start again.
Give her listless hair, empty eyes,
A plump waistline, and heavy thighs,
Ordinariness or dark, thick, glasses,
Like those girls, ridiculed in classes.
Don�t judge us on harebrained inventions,
Packaged with fashionable intention.
Don�t fill our heads with unrealistic dreams,
Dismantling our chance at self-esteem.
Beauty born of fiction clouds our vision,
Mirrored reflections, skewered by derision,
Happiness derived from first impressions,
Fuel the downward spiral of our depression.
Judge us by our keen intelligence,
Our convictions, or our vigilance,
But don�t judge us on outward appearance,
Or you�ll risk at last our disappearance.