Those marks on my skin,
few inches that I am missing,
my pale lips and hairs thin,
is no less than a heinous sin.
My outgrown belly, tiny feets,
dark circles and dangling cheeks,
My immaturity, my small face,
enough to make me unfit for race.
My decision to not laugh
with people targeting to mock,
A grown up child and, still
not knowing meaning of fuck.
How good I pretend to be a
girl, innocent well-mannered.
Ohh! dreams to be a doctor,
will operate them on bed or floor?
Palms, smaller than a flask,
I am incapable for chemistry labs.
Look, now I am getting fat
giving reasons to get abused.
Call me sick, call me mad,
this deserves a kid, imperfect.
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