The girl isn’t pretty, less fine than some.

She cannot ever do anything right;

She never speaks, she pretends to be dumb.

She can’t be good enough in other’s sight.

 

The girl in the mirror hates what she sees:

Her hair is not the right color or neat,

Her tanned skin is splotched with hellish acne,

And her temperament is not kind or sweet.

 

Her body is fat, she needs to lose weight.

The massive scars along her legs form stripes.

But, there’s something about her, something great,

Seeing in the mirror, something she likes:

 

That there is a light thriving in her eyes

A fire, resilience, to her surprise.

 

When she looks again, she sees a lot more:

Many things that she had ignored before.

 

Her eyes are a blue grey, not just a blue,

Her hair is the color of gold in the sun.

There is a sense of her make-up can't fake

Her appearance no lie carefully spun.

 

She is healthy, not skinny, she isn't fat

Her scars are lessons learned, they are not more.

She will always be there when friends need her.

She is who she is, right down to the core.

 

It's really perfect to be imperfect

To have it all is to truly have less.

In her own eyes is where it really counts

In her own eyes, she is perfect, flawless.