The Young Girls

So often, when we're younger
we, as girls, are told to "Be Yourself"
But we seldom know who we are,
So we look towards actresses,
Models, television, and media,
Trying to see who WE should be.
We emphasize what they emphasize.
we try to be who they are,
And we say that we're happy.
We smile for the camera.
But when the doors are closed,
And the blinds are drawn,
When we're on our own,
Sitting alone in the dark,
We admit our unhappiness,
Yet mere words are not enough.
The scars on our wrists,
The scars hidden from the world,
Are now in the light of our homes,
And we pull the blade once more.
Then we look at the models,
And we know that it is our dream
To be on the runway with them,
So we refuse dinner by simply saying,
"I'm not hungry,"
trying so desperately to look like them.
To be like them.
But in the end, what is it worth?
Is it worth the tears?
Is it worth the pain?
The weak days?
Is it worth the torture,
When you are already beautiful?
You are already a dream a dream come true!
You are already a success!
You are already worth than more gold!
I mean, you have a voice,
Yet you stay silent.
You have a gift,
Yet you contain it.
but me, I refuse to sit here and watch
As our young girls die inside!
They need a voice!
They need a hero!

I accept the challenge.....

Do you?





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