She was facing herself
In front of the mirror
But she wasn't herself
Or, or, was she?
She was tense, her whole body
Hair yet to be managed
Eyes yet to be outlined
Lips yet to be moistened
She wasn't looking beautiful,
She was looking terrified
She was looking vulnerable
She was worried, but about what?
Lest anyone should see her
Catch her in that situation
In the process of creating her facade
Her face to the world, the incredible art
Why many women are such?
So afraid of facing the world
So used to the secrecy of a washroom
So cocooned in the make up tools
What makes them this way
Hustled to look 'good' with a comb
So hurried and harried they run
And fumble in the purse's womb
In front of the mirror
But she wasn't herself
Or, or, was she?
She was tense, her whole body
Hair yet to be managed
Eyes yet to be outlined
Lips yet to be moistened
She wasn't looking beautiful,
She was looking terrified
She was looking vulnerable
She was worried, but about what?
Lest anyone should see her
Catch her in that situation
In the process of creating her facade
Her face to the world, the incredible art
Why many women are such?
So afraid of facing the world
So used to the secrecy of a washroom
So cocooned in the make up tools
What makes them this way
Hustled to look 'good' with a comb
So hurried and harried they run
And fumble in the purse's womb
real beauty lies inside, it sometimes may not be visible, sometimes it may be over shadowed, but it comes out eventually, just like the Sun
ReplyDeleteIs she 'you' or is it the other way around. you can't change the established norms,you or me,and i see it hard to follow it when the writer herself is so pretty.
ReplyDelete