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Who Is Beauty?

I hear this beast they speak of.
I don’t know her by name.
I hear them say her grey-rimmed eyes
Turn sunshine into rain.

I hear them call her wicked,
But I don’t think they see.
For every time I look at her,
She’s beautiful to me.

They say she’s nothing special.
That she’s just another girl.
But I find her to be the most
Intriguing thing in the world.

They say she was intriguing.
But I know they didn’t see.
And even with her blood red wrists,
She’s beautiful to me.



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