"You're so skinny, eat maybe?"
To those who pass the decree,
"I'm so fat, I ought to eat less."
Before I begin, a bit to digress:
If a word is as cruel as fortune,
Then, put a finger on your lips,
Before a smiling face you ruin;
Write it with crimson fingertips.
There are mirrors holding tales,
About the elephant-in-the-room;
Sobbing for lies that you impale,
Telling him, he's one dark moon.
All the baggy clothes in closets,
Reek of thin-as-a-pole's struggles;
His garments he often cossets,
Cursing his body for his troubles.
To ones without gym schedules,
But wake up every day with will,
To face the eyes again that roll,
The hearts with ugliness filled,
With the hope of a world one day,
That learns to seek and see,
The beauty within, without a fray,
And passes a sweet decree:
"You're skinny, but beautiful."
Until then, brothers and sisters,
"I'm so fat, but I know I'm cool."
Hear the voice of your hearts;
Does it tell you what it loves?
I hope it's a song of white doves!