Isn’t it a crying shame, darling,
that you worry so much about being beautiful,
so much so that you don’t know how good it is to be.
You don’t enjoy the beauty of being,
and you don’t know what beauty is,
or perhaps you do,
you see the beauty in other people clearly,
but go blind when you see yourself.
Do you just see beauty,
or do you feel it?
Do you hear it?
Do you know it?