Oh sister, dear sister,
Do not believe their lies.
You don’t need that perfect body
or that gap between your thighs.
You’ll curse the curves you’re born with.
You’ll curse your lovely face.
You’ll curse the things that make you different
As the they put you in your place.
Soon you won’t see your beauty
Hidden behind the veil of all their lies.
You’ll forget what makes you special
As they trap you with their guise.
But sister, dear sister
Your beauty was isn’t naught.
There is no need to search for it
Because your beauty can’t be bought.
It’s in the way your face forms your smile,
the way you love the Lord.
The way you serve the poor and needy,
How you go crazy when you’re bored.
The way your laugh brings out your dimples
and how it turns your face bright red.
Or the fact you’re a horrible dancer,
and you never make your bed.
For the Lord formed your inward parts,
He knit you in your mother’s womb.
He loves you as His daughter
And for you He left His tomb.
Your form was intricately woven,
and for your sins, our Christ did pay.
For our King makes no mistakes, my sister
You are fearfully, remarkably made.