The Lost Beauty

Alone, Silent, Lost my own fears. Much to see, to think, to do Abroad; Yet I sit, so still and patient. You look at me and you paint, Your bristles brush the page, up, down, Left, Right, Short, brisk strokes, Long draws. What is it that you see here? That you dream and create? Why me? The tiny Nobody, with no fancy clothes No Name brand shoes, no fancy gowns Just a simple, young, unattractive and ugly girl. In the mirror I only see a girl; A poor lonely, and oppressed being, But you see the beauty upon my cheek. In me you say much beauty there is Both inside and out, in my actions My speech, my walk, my “so-called” swag. Yes, all of that beauty maybe somewhere Buried deep inside, hidden by trials, By my past, my struggles, my failures. That beauty has been cast into the shadows, Lost so far beyond my reach; But maybe still within what my eyes can see. And maybe not so far beyond my reach. And now, with your help, I reach. I reach into those shadows of misery, Hatred and envy , and when my hand draws, I’ve caught it! My beauty! Myself! In me! My same BEAUTIFUL skin! What you though and believed, is true I am beautiful, I see. And its all thanks to you