Nowhere: The Disfigured Breed
Who taught the disfigured to smile using ok?
Who said it was fine to teach it that way?
Who drove the stakes into the heart of disfigured?—
Taking up that much time to enhance God given misery?
Who whispered it's name, yelling quietly, look?
Who told it over and over and over again, the same hypothesis, until it shook?
Who kissed disfigured with enough lines, saying I love you?
Who missed disfigured enough for it to want to remain accustomed to—
all of those morning meetings face to face?
Disfigured doesn't care.
It is the one up in smoke and now a solid nowhere.
Disfigured lives though, to this day, blended in.
It's frightening to know it still doesn't understand
and that it's teacher is a patient and assumable lead
that is also the maker of nowhere, the disfigured breed.
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Physical appearance can cause low self-esteem. Although this poem isn't to lift the mood of low self-esteem, it is about the literal look of unsatisfied physical appearance in the mirror.