This is a poem I put together about the perception of body image and plastic surgery.
Superficial
Body in the shape of an hourglass.
Decisions as undpredictable as
the Rohtang pass.
Eyes green as the moss,
Lips covered with so much lipgloss.
Slowly walking down the street,
trying not to bounce, with a need to adjust.
Having left the doctor's office
with a treat.
The treat of an increased bust.
With looks that are so superficial,
in this society today.
Are they really so beneficial?
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