my personal book of poems

the difference between me and successful people;

Tangled bits of hair unwashed,

motivation to clean departs.

The green circles my fingers hold

from old rings,

and jewels,

that go way back from the days,

I used to try to be enough.

With my perfect carved nails

painted with trendy pale.

My trendy shoes

my mother could not quite afford.

My selfishness forgot selflessness and

did not even seem to recognize the

struggle of an own mother's eye.

Trendy tops,

which definitely exposed too much.

More than I was comfortable but I convinced myself,

that was what made me beautiful.

Beauty was not comfort.

Beauty was difficult.

However, beauty was worth it?

These youtube videos preach

"Beauty is only skin-deep".

They wouldn't know, I sickly chuckle.

I look at my lit screen, reflecting faces of light

and love

and life.

Easy for them to say.

My society,

You see society is hypocritical.

You are society,

i am society.

That girl in the back of the classroom,

the teacher who made you stay 5 more minutes,

the mother, who spends working day & night

dusk to dawn,

for their children

whose priorities are overdrawn,

overrated

overabundant

overgeneralised.

To-do lists of morning routines

we copy from beautiful clear faces and

bright living spaces,

we stick on our bedrooms.

How do they do it?

Drink 8 liters a day,

work their bodies.

The most successful people find time, then why can't I?

That is because the difference between me and successful people,

is that they made themselves their requirement and I made society

mine.