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The Oyster Has Pearls
Everyone tells me perfection is fake,
That people are beautiful in their own way,
But envy is holding me, it won’t let go,
Expected to be just as pure as the snow.
Laughter ringing in the crowded hallways,
People that promised to be with me always,
And here I am walking with a few friends,
Hoping I could be as pretty as them.
Society tells me there’s one type of beautiful,
My mirror agrees that I’ll never be suitable.
Plastic my body until I’m reusable,
I want to be different, unique, and unusual.
The boys in my classes do not understand,
Their words hurt me more than the violence of hands.
On the outside, I’m confident, strong, and prepared,
But inside I am wishing that I never cared.
I cry for myself, for the world, for the girls,
Who don’t realize that the oyster has pearls,
But in order to thrive, we must push through the pain,
That the world throws at us every single, damn, day.
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This poem is for all the teens out there who are struggling. You are not alone. You are valid. You are beautiful.