Do I look good?
Do I look bad?
She goes by ,
And I see the looks
I wish I always had,
Oh , how it makes me cry.
Her voice is so sweet ;
A dulcet,
Then there\'s me ,
A mere puppet.
But what matters ,
Is the spirit, the soul ,
As bright as a diamond,
As treasured as gold.
Why then ,
Why is everyone being sad ?
Why don\'t they see?
The Beauty we possess,
You and me.
There goes she ,
This time though,
I bask in her beauty,
And alongside,
I admire the one present in me.