in the eye of the beholder

I've never been a happy soul

so why do I wait for change?

How can a stone

turn into a flower?

I am the stone named "lily"

a decieving mask,

I hide behind the delusion.

When people get too close 

they call me out, 

for what I truly am. 

"But I am a gentle flower!"

I insist, 

as they toss me to the side, 

telling me I am not special, 

I am not beautiful, 

I am not worthy.

Eventually it weathers you, 

I have learned not to let them too close, 

I have learned to admit the sins I was born with. 

"I am a rock, nothing special to see, 

I am a rock, as boring as could be."

The torture of rejection has stopped,

and that's all that matters. 

I dream of being a flower in my next life, 

I fear this one is at it's end. 

I am cracked almost all the way through, 

a lily has grown through me, 

and as my light goes out I see my insides and realize

I was never a rock at all, 

but a crystal. 

Now entertwined in a feild of flowers,

I die happy, 

because I am beautiful...

and I always was.