Daughter

36-24-36
They say is a winning hand
But it's not the one that
I was dealt
So I will fight
And I will fight
Against these feelings that I've felt since I was a teen
These feelings
Of inadequacy
That weigh upon me
That tell me that
You're not tall enough
You're not thin enough
You're
Just
Not
Good
Enough

So cinch your waist
And paint your face
Pull your hemline up
And your neckline down
Because sex sells
At least that's what they say
They say that it sells
But some are out here
Just giving it away
Like government food stamps
That can't even last
Until payday
Little do you know
You have tossed
An original
Handwritten
Autographed
Manuscript
Into the
Clearance bin
Of Half Price Books
Just for the fleeting boost
You'll gain as you
Capture their looks
With eyes that see you
Nothing more than
A carnal prize
Or should I say
A carnival prize

When really
You are the daughter of the
King Most High
You were bough with a price
And not the reduced one the World
Has stamped on your head
Just to get into your bed
Or
Inside your head
So they can whittle at your sense of self worth
So you'll listen to their chatter
And you'll worry that
Your thighs have gotten fatter
Because the less
You value yourself
The cheaper you'll price it when You place it on society's shelf

But
You don't need to do that
Because you have
Captured the heart
Of the Maker of
All created things
The one who formed
Mountains out of rubble
And filled oceans
Into spaces so deep
And the one who scattered giants
We call stars
Across the vastness that
Shadows while we sleep
And as the sun sets
And the moon rises to the sky
You, cherished daughter
Are on His mind