You say I'm beautiful
And that I don't understand.I guess maybe you're right,
Because I could sit here all day,
And point out flaw after flaw.But you say I'm amazing.
One of us has to be wrong.You say it's me,
That I should just believe.But I don't.
I don't understand.
Just like you say.You tell me that I'm beautiful
And you wish you could convince me.You tell me that I'm beautiful
And that I just don't see.I guess I don't.
I think you're beautiful.
I don't know where you got that from me.I'm simple.
Unoriginal.
I blend into crowds.
And I stutter over words.But you think I'm beautiful.
I guess I just don't understand.
YOU ARE READING
Pretty words
PoetrySad things described in pretty words, vessels for hurt. (Poetry)