I look in the mirror,
looking for a feature,
that I like that makes me,
beautiful.
If I can't find it,
they say look harder,
but I can't find it,
I never could.
Nothing is beautiful,
about me,
my nose is to big,
and my face to round.
My eyes look clouded,
from the tears that threaten to spill,
and my hair that falls,
has dead ends.
My hair is to frizzy,
my thighs to fat,
my smile to forced,
and my face, not pretty.
The tears spill,
down my cheeks,
like a waterfall,
down my cheeks.
I look at my hand,
even that isn't pretty,
and my face is,
much to chubby.
Day comes again,
making me feel self conscious,
about my thighs and eyes,
and my hair and pale skin.
My eyelashes draw
to much attention to my eyes,
which seen to be,
cloudy all the time.
My neck is strange,
my chin doesn't fit,
and my eyebrows,
are to light to be seen.
They say,
look closer you'll see,
I do try to see,
but ugly is all I see.
