To all the girls
Who were told
That beauty, was nothing more,
Than an outside viewers spectacle.
Your skin is perfect,
Your bones are hand crafted.
No matter what it is on top.
There is nothing more ugly
Nothing more tragic and flawed In life than to think,
These things matter,
in any proximity
To your strength, moral, intelligence And fearlessness.
The genuine human grace
That drapes your ancestors,
Your shining glory of truth.
All of the veracities of your soul,
Create an unhinged,
Unapologetic rise
Each morning.