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The Beautiful Truth

As the tears fall
In the cold hands of night
I wish you would come through the hall
And hold me tight

I hate this feeling
That I don’t belong
Why must I be so unappealing?
Why can I not be strong?

They say, “But you are beautiful,”
What is it that I cannot see?
“Always joyful, truthful, and hopeful,”
They must really not know me

Then you come in and show me a mirror
And what they’ve been saying, is finally clearer




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