I know a girl, whose hair is always faultless, whose teeth are always shined. She has a pretty voice, it sings softly like a bird does as it wakes the flowers that shake dew off their petals. Her skin, so flawless, the colour of light chocolate. And her eyes, the things that make a person, they are surrounded by her clear sight.
I know another, who hair is dry and rigid; stuck blatantly behind her ears. Her voice, one that few can listen to for long. Her skin, scarred and blotchy, never one colour for long. And her eyes, they are surrounded by her imperfect face.
I know two girls; one is beautiful, one is not.
I know a girl, whose heart is kind as words pour from her mouth. She will help if she can, give rather than ask. And her eyes shine with her heart. She is beautiful.
I know a girl, whose heart is cruel as insults slur from between her teeth. She takes when she can, and when she cannot she will envy. And her eyes lie lifeless in their sockets. She is not beautiful.
I know two girls; one is beautiful, one is not. One is cruel with a flawless face, the other kind with ragged hair.
The beauty one holds, lies in her heart and is seen in her eyes. And the other, she is not beautiful, and still she will stare into her eyes as they tell the secrets that lie beneath.
I know two girls, one is beautiful, one is not.