Growing up I was told to be
The person everyone else could see.
I'd look into the mirror each day,
And see a face that caused dismay.
Ugly, narrow, rat-faced, too tall,
I'd see every one of my perceived flaws.
I learned to avoid this, my daily fall.
Nothing could hide from me what I saw.
I couldn't see me, I was somewhere, beneath it all.
Beneath the skin, below my face, my soul sat crying
My saving grace, was that I knew, the me inside that was the truth.
Beneath it all, I knew myself, I knew the me on the outside, was lying.
