Imagine:
If I wore my pain on my sleeves
and my dreams around my neck
If my eyes were my wishes
and if my sins were carved on my skin.
If my heart could speak
and if my fingers could sing.
If I grew as tall as my tales
or as small as my truths.
If my lies were my tears
and they streamed down my face
If my burdens were my feet
and I struggled to move
If my potential was stuck in my throat
and I couldn't get it out
Now answer me this:
Would I still be beautiful?
