In a world consumed by shape and form,
Beauty standards of today are being reborn.
Gone are the days of natural grace,
Now replaced by a plastic face.

Frozen expressions, lips swollen and plump,
Eyes pepper sprayed, lost in a cosmetic slump.
Noses tiny, nostrils hard to find,
A world entranced by an elusive design.

At a funeral, a somber affair,
Faces painted white, a ghostly stare.
Glass skin reflecting the gleam of the casket,
Dazzling lights, a spectacle unsurpassed.

Tears welling up, yet smiles remain,
Plastic grins, concealing the pain.
A wedding adorned with flowing attire,
But not a single soul dressed for a crown's desire.

Models on a runway, not brides to be,
Revealing clothes, baring all for all to see.
Longer than carpets, these garments flow,
Covering more than they dare to show.

And men, infected by this twisted game,
Wearing women's bikinis, embracing the same.
Walking on tiptoes, performing femininity,
In a topsy-turvy world, where lines blur with audacity.

Beauty standards have surpassed all bounds,
Creating a world in which chaos resounds.
Where men and women strive for praise,
In a never-ending pursuit of an ideal craze.

But let us remember, true beauty lies within,
Not confined by standards that society spins.
In a medium of self-acceptance, we find solace,
Embracing uniqueness, breaking free from this palace.

 

Explanation of the above poem 

 

In a world where shape and form reign supreme, it seems that beauty standards have taken a turn for the worst. Gone are the days of natural grace and in its place stands a plastic facade. Women and men alike are consumed by the pursuit of an unattainable ideal, striving for perfection at any cost.

 

Frozen expressions adorn faces that look more like dolls than human beings. Lips are swollen and plump, eyes peppered with color like a canvas gone awry. Noses are pinched and tiny, almost invisible beneath a layer of makeup. It's as if the very essence of humanity has been stripped away, replaced by a caricature of what it means to be beautiful.

 

At funerals, faces are painted white, creating a ghostly, unsettling effect. Glass skin reflects the light, making the wearer appear almost ethereal. But this ethereality is only an illusion; beneath the surface, there's an emptiness that can't be filled. It's as if the people who wear it are trying to outrun their own mortality, refusing to accept the inevitability of death.

 

In weddings, the bride and groom are often lost amidst a sea of plastic smiles and fake beauty. Their love story is reduced to a mere spectacle, with attention focused more on the superficial than on the depth of their feelings. And as for the guests, they too are caught up in the web of falsehoods, donning elaborate garments that reveal more about their own insecurities than their individuality.

 

The realm of fashion, once a celebration of creativity and self-expression, has become a breeding ground for conformity. Models parade down runways in clothes that are more appropriate for a costume party than a high-fashion show. Their bodies are distorted, their movements stifled, as they attempt to embody an unattainable ideal. And the men who walk alongside them, wearing women's clothing and performing femininity, only serve to further blur the lines between gender and sexuality.

 

In a world where beauty standards have run amok, it's easy to lose sight of what truly matters. But amidst the chaos and the confusion, there is hope. For every person who dares to embrace their own uniqueness, there is a spark of rebellion that could ignite a revolution. A revolution that rejects the tyranny of shape and form, and instead celebrates the beauty of the soul.