They say she’s pretty
I can’t say that I agree
Because it hurts too much
To look at reflections of me
But I see the russet color in the sun
When my hair gets in my eye
And I grin for that moment
When I feel it isn’t a lie.
And I glimpse my likeness
There, within your stare
And it’s almost like I’m all you see
And my beauty is all that’s there.
And you reach out, with poise
To caress this face
And it’s a miracle what you can do
As I experience all your grace
And all this so-called beauty
Just might really reside
But I never really feel it
Until that moment in your eyes.
© 2006 TornPaperDoll
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Printed from www.DarkPoetry.com/dp/3787/80812 on Tuesday October 14th, 2008 05:28 AM
Certain elements © 1996-2008 Matthew Steven (matts.org)
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