Beauty contest

It is all a game
About fame
It is our duty
To look “past” beauty
One day we love and adore
The other day no more
Because they have scars
Their heart put behind bars
We now only feel pity
Leave them in a pile of shitty

Imagine 7.5 billion people in line
And a jury would define
What your beauty is worth
On this magnificent Earth
You do not have the right size?
You can not win a beauty prize
You could always have an injection
To match a picture of perfection
But when you fall out “of tune”
You can not receive a fortune
I believe it is a disgrace
To put people out-of-place

What happens when you have cancer?:
When you lose your breast(s)?
You go through (a) life test(s),
What about the rest?
All your days are “messed”
You cope, but are so stressed
You need your care to be the best
You want to curl up in a safe nest
And the beauty contest?
Is not of any interest!

I will say it in my own way:
I see beauty every day
From Europe to Africa
Form Asia to America
I see it on the corner of every street
I see it in the people who I meet