Her eyes are the tree bark;
Making her face come alive.
She's burden with Despair;
Yet she still shines, hiding the sadness deeper than a purpley black hue.
She's destined for greatness,
Its Framing her path.
She stands in the crowd,
And yet she is all alone .
But the loneliness is soothing to her.
They say looks don't matter;
Then why do they always pick the pretty face?
She is not ugly.
But she is not one of those girls.
She is not perfect .
And she is not them .