Beauty is to be Thin

Beauty can't simply be defined
By reference books or sites
Though people often feel inclined
To go to greatest heights
Converting pictures into words
To spring the thought to life. . .
Sky scrapers, fresh air, trees, and birds
But cutting like a knife
You realize of all these things
That none of the sufice
But one idea that softly sings
With words like silky ice
It sinks your heart to deep dispair and violent crying. Then
You notice with a sudden light: Beauty is to be Thin

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This is a Shakespearean sonnet. A little bit more structured than I would usually write, but I wrote this to push myself. Stretching one's self often helps one to improve one's writing style. Good luck writing!