Semi-Clad Selfie

Each morning she takes a new semi-clad selfie,
With a pout and a pose,
Blushed up cheeks to look healthy

Her 1000 followers predominantly male,
But hers is an all too familiar tale,
As a child and a pre-teen she rarely got noticed,
Plain Jane, say the mean girls who say she’s the grossest

But then she grew up and the boys got int’rested,
Her curves got attention, her inbox infested

Testost’rone filled lads with a hunger for flesh,
So she’d send a few pics to maintain their interest.

Though they always would tell her she really was pretty,
And she’d giggle and swoon at their humour so witty,
Inside she still felt like she slowly was dying,
From the effort of posing from the pressure of trying

To find her a lover to replace that heartache,
Of losing her Daddy, she made her first mistake,

She mistook his love words for genuine affection,
When all that she was, was his latest selection
Her body so cheap in the eyes of her conquer’r,
Cos all that he’d wanted to do was to bonk her!
Yet each day she posts another semi-clad photo,
With her boobs pushed together And her extensions Bo-ho

In the hope that this muscle-bound Adonis next guy,
The chiseled physique, cobalt eyes and toned pecs guy

Will take her away from her Ivory tower,
With its’ make up and fake up, its’ heels and its power

Little knowing how high you may climb up that ladder,
The pressure still grows as your heart it grows sadder
For the pouts and the poses and Marbellan selfies
Will all take their toll as you try to stay wealthy

Constant slimming and preening and putting the dye on,
To keep up the image, the façade you rely on,
To cover up heartache, to live in denial,
That the world where you live’s a continual trial

For loving yourself is the only solution,
To this merry-go-round of perpetual confusion,

So scrap Cosmo, chuck Vogue and their higher ideals,
With their high fibre diets and low calorie meals,
For behind each mag cover there’s a woman or mother,
Who’s spent decades attempting their youth to recover

Till you love yourself as God first intended,
You never can start to begin to be mended.

P J Deakin 2015©

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