Walking along the road
I see faces turn towards me
I can almost hear them whisper
To their companions – ‘see’
I pretend indifference and walk on
While pitying glances follow me
It isn’t my fault that I am ugly
And just a plain, horrid looking ‘me’
Sometimes I wish to tell these men
That it is not outward beauty that matters
I may be one of those ugly ten
but at least I am not in tatters
I do not try to enhance myself
like those who want to show off their pelf
I’d be more happy if they’d see my virtues
But then – who would go and explain that to them?
So I walk on and on
Knowing that I possess a ‘something’ for which others cry
For which I bless the day I was born
Since I got it so easily in just one try
Though its as hard to find as a bud among the thorns
Yes – I am the proud owner of ‘happiness’ – a rarely found gem
For it does not grow like a fruit on a stem
Its an elusive thing which I wish to keep till the day of my death
So I shall hold on to it forever, until my last breath.