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In Pursuit of Shadows
In a realm where beauty's judged by scale and frame, She waged a war, a cruel, losing game. Denied herself the joy of life’s sweet feast, For acceptance’s sake, her spirit ceased.
Her days were marked by absence, void of bread, A haunting quest to lay her hunger dead. Mirrors turned to foes, reflecting fears, Her laughter drowned in unshed, phantom tears.
No morsel passed her lips, yet still she craved A fleeting grace, by which she was enslaved. Till weakened, worn, her body could not stand, She fell, too frail, no helping, loving hand.
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The poem paints a vivid picture of the internal and external pressures that drive individuals to forsake their health and happiness for acceptance.