Mirror-Bound Disdain

In the realm of beauty, a word we adore,

"Smooth" whispers softly, demanding more and more.

From skin so clear, to legs like silk,

Society's grip, leaves young hearts to wilt.

Girls purge the pain of standards askew,

In private rooms, their tears silently strew.

Mirror-bound, reflections fill with disdain,

Chasing the smoothness that causes such strain.

A flat stomach showcased, a mask for the crowd,

Smiles concealing an internal shroud.

Yet when they return home, tears still fall,

As society's standards continue to enthral.

In the mirror's gaze, harsh critics convene,

As blemishes dance, a cruel routine.

Body hair in sight, a battleground laid,

For natural growth, you're scornfully paid.

Layers pile on, a fortress to shield,

Yet acceptance remains a mystery concealed.

In this scripted play, of beauty's demand,

Smooth becomes a heavy, oppressive command.

But let us unravel the façade, be true,

Embrace the essence that makes us human, through and through.