Born into a shell, a physical form,
Your body holding a complex soul,
The first experience of societal norm,
Physical beauty the expected goal.
The pressure develops in juvenility,
Dissecting every single flaw,
Preying on bodily sensitivity,
Anxiety building at your core.
Insecurity ripples as you mature,
But looks aren’t the total of your self,
You are unique and that is for sure,
Witness the power of emotional wealth.
So, stand proud and never be shy,
Body a cocoon, spirit a butterfly.
By Paul Webster