With those small feet, you twirled,
Loving almost every little thing about this world.
As the shoe size began to change,
These little joys were then estranged.
Once, any flower would bring you joy,
When your outlook on life was not so certain;
How they have tricked your free soul to be in this shell,
Compelling you to be either a beach or a mountain person.
Funny how your tangled tresses once felt like freedom,
Now make you nervous and mad;
How you began to see imperfections,
In everything beautiful that you have ever had!
To fit in this world now full of perfectionists,
You have lost the essence of your being;
When you walk wearing this face that does not belong to you,
I often wonder, how it really feels?
Everything that once made you, You,
Is now falling off the shelf;
In this journey that you have taken on, that is not even yours,
How far have you come from yourself?
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