She had a scar that runs
deep
Ugly as it looked, the uglier
story behind it.
She wanted to hide and world
didn’t wish to see
Gross, scary and partly
burnt face
The reason she was afraid to
look at mirror
Hideous, hideous, hideous
“A thing of beautiful is a
joy forever”
As John Keats echoed through
the classic.
She looked last time at
mirror
And made another scar on the
wrist
A final scar, she needn’t be
hideous anymore.
