Unseen

So many people in this generation willingly extend grace and compassion to others, no matter what they have done. Sometimes I wonder if we extend that same grace and compassion to others, no matter what they look like? "Unseen" is written from the view-point of a middle school girl. Think back to your own adolescent years as you read it.


Deliberately, you look at me
and don't like what you see.
You analyze and criticize
and judge how I should be.

You patronize my shape, my size,
I'm not the look you idolize.
You guess aloud my shy cup size,
Your words turn crude, obscene.

I hide in clothes too loose, too large,
I grip my books across my heart.
You rate my every body part;
I pray to be unseen.

I pray to be unseen,
I ask God why he made me.
You point, you leer, berate, demean,
I pray to be unseen.

I see the girls who gain your smiles,
with grown-up figures and trendy styles,
tight-fitting shirts and legs for miles,
and know that will never be me.

I pretend I'm made of brick and stone,
that your words are heard by you alone.
though I feel worth nothing and on my own,
and wish I wasn't me.

I'll escape into my room tonight,
slam the door, lock myself inside,
stare at a full-length mirror and cry,
and pray to be unseen.

I pray to be unseen.
I ask God why he made me.
I'll never be pretty and loved, like I dream
so I pray to be unseen.

I pray to be unseen.
I ask God why he made me.
Someone please tell me I matter indeed,
or I pray to be unseen.