Poetry

[kia]

My beloved sister, why do you dye your hair blonde?
My beautiful sister, why do you fake your eyelashes green?
Don’t you know how magnificent you are in all your originality?
My beloved sister, look at that pimple on your chin. Do you see its beauty? Behold, it even wears a tiny white crown.
Ponder its story.
Like everything under the sun it has a purpose. It has meaning. Why would you want to destroy purpose? Why deny meaning?
My beautiful sister, look at that hair growing on your chin. It is made of keratin. Creation.
Ponder it, see how the sun surrounds it with a golden halo. When you have listened to its story you may remove it. Or just leave it.
It does not really matter because even if you remove it it will still be there, in a way.
Nothing ever gets lost here.

Wow, what a powerful poem advocating self-acceptance

Yes!! you´ve gotta love your pimples. Nice one Meerie