Underneath the Surface

Song of the moment: Underneath It All by No Doubt

I wonder what the world would be like if everyone was judged by their inner beauty, and everything else didn't matter. Here are some poems I found that I think a lot of people can relate to... it makes you wonder if our outer image is just a mask that we wear to hide our true selves.



"I don't see myself as beautiful
I don't know what I'm doing here
I'm ugly as Hell
I'm paranoid that I smell
My friends probably hate me
I hate being me
I wish I was pretty
I wish I could see
What's inside
My inner beauty


But all I can see
Is what's on the outside
A face that I hate
A truth that I hide
I don't understand
How anyone can stand
To look me in the eye
And not want to run and hide
The only thing I know
Is that I hate my life
I hate my reflection
And I'm scared to death of rejection
Feeling so self-conscience I've never taken chances
I hate the possibility
Of receiving hateful glances
I hate my face
I hate my hair
I hate noticing people's stares
Will I ever accept myself for me?
Will I ever learn to see
What's inside
My inner beauty "

By Alishia

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Inner beauty is something so glamorous
It's mere presence is seen
Not //all// see this presence
Outside can be very decieving
Inside never lies
I saw you today
You are truly beautiful
But like I often do
You were worrying about outside things
I wanted to shout at you
Instead I looked
I thought
You must feel the same way when I worry
About outside
You think I'm beatuiful
As I view you
And I sigh
I know how you feel
I comfort
Because I want to make the pain of outside go away
I know how it feels

By Sungoddess

-------

Remember,you said, the body's a prison.
As you watch distantly while I peel my skin
back in layers. My blood covers me like warm
satin like sanctuary.

And I peel my skin back in layers
each movement becomes a ritual warm like satin.
And the ritual becomes my sanctuary from my body.
My prison

where each movement becomes a ritual.
You told me once, I was beautiful underneath
my skin; my body; my prison.
You told me once that no one is truly free.

You told me once, I was beautiful
every now and then but I remember underneath
my skin my body's a prison.
And maybe you are the warden

every now and then.
But i can have my moments of freedom.
Maybe you are the warden offering me the
sanctuary of a locked jail cell.

But I can have my moments of freedom when
my blood covers me like warm satin like the
sanctuary of a locked jail cell where each
movement is a ritual. Yes I remember the body's
a prison and no one is truly free.
No, no one is truly free.

By "Alone in this"

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Whether your "inner truth/self" is the most beautiful part of yourself, or it's the part of yourself you try to hide with the use of artificial beauty and make-up products, it's still half of what makes us who we are. Maybe more.