When you can't stand the sight of yourself it's a vicious circle.
Inspired by Irish folk group Deanta.

Never chose to be born in this skin,
This awkward form and stocky stature,
Never decided on this name or this religion,
None of this had I wanted to become.

Yet you cannot outrun myself,
Hard as you try to layer all the faults;
Pretending you were someone else
Or seeking other fineries.

No matter how I wish to hide,
My essence will remain the same -
The one you see reflecting from the mirror
Will always be that same ungainly thing.

And no amount of theories
Or anything that you might say
Will make me not resent myself,
Or my resentment for you sway.

The End

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