sjsprWriting

Like putty in the hands.

Molded to have the perfect figure,

With curves and kinks in all the right places.

Shaping the ideas in your head,

Squeezing your thoughts and actions to the point of suffocation.

To conform to this single apparently perfect thought.

That one.

Ideal.

Thought.

Purging societies so called “sins”,

Of self-respect and good nutrition,

And displaying the fruits of your labor.

With your newly molded body

With kinks in all the right places.

You are applauded for conforming.

But the applause turn to stares, 

And the judgment then pierces your kinks and curves,

But your kinks and curves are here to stay,

Because your mind has been molded

To be the ideal shape,

And there is no further molding your hardened mind.