Are you a scientist?
Then why are you placing me on a slide?
Who gave you permission to judge every aspect of me?
Every strand of my thick hair
Every scar on my leg
Every less than perfect nail
My flawed complexion
I do my best to please you
But my best is never good enough for you
Because your definition of perfection
Is only achievable for the gods
You think that you are royalty
But you are only royally despised
Get away from me with those critical eyes
My life is too precious to be wasted under your microscope

Poetry Slam: 


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