Glossy pages,

And bleach-blonde hair.

Faux-tan skin,

And Photoshop.

Skin-tight clothes,

And diet pills.

Made-up skin,

And model bodies.

The quiet life

Of the rich and famous.

The star-lined streets

In faux-fab clothes.

With laxatives

And paparazzi.

They tell us

“Hey, this could be you!

Just buy this stuff

And you’ll be cool!

You’ll be great,

And thin,

And fab!”

But the fine-print lines

Expose their lies.

Of ‘results not typical’

And ‘digitally mastered.’

But us die-hard fools

All we want.

Is to be perfect.

So we buy their goods,

And buy their tales,

And ignore their fine-print truths

But buy their well-wrought fibs.

But the mirror never lies.

And we see truth.

Acne’d faces,

And too-tight jeans.

Crooked teeth,

And dull, flat hair.

Our clothes aren’t fab,

Our tans aren’t real.

We’re merely human,

Trying to live

An inhuman life

Of magazine pages,

And model pics.

So accept us as we are,

Our not-so-bikini bodies,

Our flawed makeup,

Our modellessness.

For we are merely humans,

Trying to live

An inhuman life.