This is my conversation poem. We were supposed to give a little insight of who we were by describing something we were not. Some people described why they weren't swimmers or chefs, but I decided to describe why I wasn't concerned with my appearance. Enjoy!
It’s only temporary-my appearance that is
It will fade and wrinkle
Like tissue paper with time
As long as I am comfortable in my skin
Why should I spend hours primping and preening?
It’s a comfortable and carefree life
Where I don’t have to suffer
The horrors of itchy, tight, yet stylish attire
No recuperation from vicious stabs
Of the bristled mascara wand
Or the irritating scratches of the eyeliner pencil
And for what?
To be ruthlessly judged and compared to others
“Is that really what you’re wearing?”
Free yourself from the evils of scorn
Have faith in who you are
And wear what you want!
When you want!
And most importantly...
Be your own dictionary
—and define yourself.
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