In Beauty’s Name
Her breasts were plump,So too her rump;
Her waist, though, thin as wire.
A maid thus sized
Epitomised
Victorian desire,
Corsets and stays
Her hidden ways
To suit her suitor’s taste –
But at a cost
Of insides squashed
And painfully displaced,
A liver and heart
Forced far apart
All for the sake of love,
As by degrees
The whalebone squeezed
Her down below above.
Ladies today
Inclined that way
Have implants front and rear.
No mystery
Like corsetry
Sustains each ample sphere;
All’s on display,
Not hidden away
By satin top to toe –
The suitor eyes
His nubile prize
With curves immense but faux.
Though fashions change
And rearrange,
What’s underneath’s the same:
The woman bears
The scars and tears
Inflicted on her frame –
And all in Beauty’s name.
