They see the blemishes that spread across your forehead,
They see that thing you can hardly call a nose.
They see your awkward hands that tremble; they think they have you read,
They see those rags you wear to school, although they are hardly cloths.

You see nothing but your unworthy self, that’s just been beaten down,
You see the ugly, like everyone else, and wish the end was near.
You can’t see past, your developing face, always shadowed with a frown,
You see that no one else can see that your outlook on life is full of fear.

I see the beauty that even you can’t, that lies within your soul,
I see that shining smile that’s cover by your head brace.
I see your wisdom, your heart, and self-control
I see the scars from other people you with you could erase.