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.