Pain Comes with Beauty

I am not girly..just so you know.
With that information, here is a poem.

Ouch...ouch...ouch...
I hate plucking my eyebrows.
….
I look crazy!
My hand held magnified mirror centimeters away from my face,
The only hair band I own is keeping my hair out of my face;
it just so happens to have beautiful springy antennae on them,
Sitting at my desk in my crazy colored pj's,
My eyebrows turning redder and redder each hair I pluck,
Making weird face expressions;
focusing on finding every single hair on my forehead that is out of line.

All this so I am presentable in school the next day?
No I don't really care about what they think of my looks,
Anyways the people I care about, don't care about my looks; my friends.
Or the people I care to impress are found in a place more formal than school;
in the real world.
I do all this so that those three hours or more everyday that I am looking at myself in the mirror- simply staring at my face and eyes- I see something I like.
I admit that I am selfish, self absorbed, vain, egotistical, and all that what not.
But at least I am happy with myself inside and out.

Ouch...ouch...ouch
I hate plucking my eyebrows.