She views her reflection in the front store window 

Poking at her kindred face

She squints with disgust at her features

Not admiring all of her grace

That bent nose, she wishes would go away

Was built by her ancestors as if with clay

So carefully sculpted, a many days ago

I wish that she would only know

Poking at her kindred face

Wishing it would go away

Wanting to be,

the belle of the ball

I see her touch those marks and scars

She fears what other people think

but they remind me of the lovely stars

I see a woman lovely is she

Her features framing that person she’ll be 

Wishing she could smile with glee, and notice

She is lovely as a person can be