To My Seeking Son

You have been lied to by a conspiracy of greed
They tell you they know what you need
A woman of choice is slender and tall
She’s a trophy, not a person, that’s all

Beauty is defined by their standard
They showed you what’s good as they pandered
Brainwashing your mind to seek the surface
If love doctors they are, then sue for malpractice

Painted as beauties were Reuben’s full ladies
A short woman’s heart can run like Mercedes
Follow not a ridiculous façade of beauty
Find a partner of mind, heart, faith, and duty

Beauty does not fade, but trophies tarnish
A woman is a person, not some empty garnish
If you seek with your eyes, you’ll end in regret
Search for a heart to complete your duet

                                                 P J Casselman