A Tale of self reproach


Mirror, mirror on the wall,
Have you got no shame at all?
You claim to admire beauty,
And yet criticize her body for being curvily pretty.
Do you not see those eyes,
The ones you remark as a pity,
They say it's the eyes that are the windows to the self,
You see,
Maybe those eyes imagine lying down in a ground of yellow brown
dandelions and just enjoying the sunshine,
Or maybe they feel mischievous as her besties walks up to her with her latest gossip,
Or maybe those eyes see pride adorning the stethoscope
and hearing her mum's heartbeat.
Or maybe they spy an opportunity to steal the bread to feed her innumerous children back home,
Or radiate confidence as she walks down the ramp.
Or maybe those eyes are thrilled
as she slashes her knife across her predator's neck and see him whimper in the face of death.
Dark bright blood drip on the floor  creeping upto her just like a child tiptoeing to his mother.
How is it you don't see those eyes?
Is having dark circles, her only vice?
.

Hold on! Just wait!
You tell me about eyes!
What about her tresses? Its a total mess!
Her eyebrows ain't done,
And have you seen her skin, what a shade of brown is it!
She has a crooked nose,
And the lips! They are so topsy-turvy!
Also do you see the bulging! At all the odd places!
There's hair on the face, and hair on legs!
And such broad shoulders! Is she a woman or I mean a man after all?
O dear God! What do i do with her if not be her critic!
For centuries now, its you who decided what's beauty!
It's you who made the rules,
And now you say I've no shame at all!
.
Okay! Okay Dear mirror!
I'm so greatly sorry!
Somewhere or the other I think
I'm still at fault!
How could i impose on you
That responsibility..
When it's still my eyes who can never adjust to my new rules of beauty!


About the writer:-  The author Maanvi is a budding doctor in Kolkata who loves reading literature and weave new stories.
      
    Thank you mam for giving me this offer to upload your wonderful poetry on my blog...

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