prism full of bitches

[YDK]

These women are like prisms,
Prisoners in their own sense.
Unknowing of their inner beauty
Until a light shines through their innocence.
Exhibiting brilliance upon all who see their true colors; bold,
Yet pondering that the light is what creates the beauty they hold.
Its a beauty of old,
From the time of Eve she was naked and pure,
Time passed, sins committed, till she was forsaken and blurred.
Smeared through history but the mystery remains,
Why did she believe a lie and have to live with the blame?
Why was she given the shame?
An innocent bystander to the lies of a bastard who was easily named!
The genetic make up of a woman;
You gotta wear make up to be a woman; misled.
But the urge to be accepted leaves em sparkly and colored instead.
Is the powders and brushes there to cover the touches of God?
Is an imperfection really imperfect?
or has history formed a figure you must follow to not be labeled as "odd"?
Is it our fault women are faulty in the aspect of projecting an image?
Or did we see something so perfect we ruined it,
Forcing too much light through a prism.