Every human being can say, that they can only be their best,
In both the deeds that they perform, and the way they dress,
But in this modern world, there’s not enough cool for all,
So, let “perfection pressure” begin, to start it’s appal.
Folk get ill for the “body beautiful”, in danger cells called gyms,
Their veins are popping, blood is dropping, due to bodily sins,
“Don’t eat that, eat this!” forceful newspaper will blare out,
Choose whatever you may to eat, to win this dietary bout.
Trinny and Susannah wannabees will try to drape their cloth,
“To look this good, you’ve gotta pay” like dogs their mouths froth,
“Hey you over there! I know me, I have my own identity”
Will be your certain response, to escape their fiscal villainy.
“Can I take your picture please?” a camera wielder will say,
You stand and pose to act as muse, for modern day Monet,
But, when you look at what’s been done, there’s no sense of ease,
“As I keep on saying, I am me, so no airbrushing please!?”
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Author:
AuburnScribbler (
Offline) - Published: January 13th, 2018 11:56
- Comment from author about the poem: In this modern world, there is paining pressure to be perfect. We are human, therefore we are not. Though that doesn't stop us to try the best "us" we can be. This poem underlines the fact that "you" and "your identity" is good enough, but there is a danger of trying too hard because of "perfection pressure", and in the end it will suck the identity out of you. So be "you", the best "you", as there is only one of "you", and that is something very special indeed. I hope you enjoy.
- Category: Reflection
- Views: 29
Offline)
Comments3
Beautiful
Well written and expressed
Very true we need to be what we are.
I do like the idea of 'danger cells called gyms'.
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