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Flawless
They see me and swoon,
for I am absolutely perfect.
Look at my big eyes and small nose.
My raised cheekbones and sultry pose.
There is not a blemish to be found,
on my perfectly tanned skin.
And of course I don’t weigh more than 80 pounds!
That would be a sin!
Oh, and did I forget to mention?
My long wavy hair is all real,
no extensions!
It reaches my teeny waist,
which is above my unrealistically long skinny legs.
I am what every girl strives to be,
and everybody loves me!
But at the same time they are filled with jealousy,
because I am what they are supposed to be.
Even though all I am,
is a cluster of pixels
created by a computer program.
I used to be real -- a long time ago
but since then, I have been edited and refined.
Altered, modified, and re-designed
But shhh! No one is supposed to know that!
They have to think they can look like a goddess
but we can’t let them know that it’s impossible to be
flawless.
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This article has 2 comments.
This poem is from the point of view of a model in an ad. A model that has clearly been edited to meet unrealistic standards that are impossible to achieve. It wasn't very hard to find inspiration for this piece, because photos with polished models are everywhere: in magazines, TV, and billboards.