Collarbones, collarbones, collarbones.
I wish I hadn't known
Of every pretty girl
Whose hair is perfectly curled
Or eyelashes as far as the sun,
I simply wish there were none.

I am not the fairest of them all
My eyes are brown 
And lips too small,
Rather than the girl whose eyes
Make guys fall in the sunrise of
Green, blue and hazel.

I am not as petite as the girl down the street,
Her legs are enduring
While mine hardly assure me
That I have beauty too.
As hard as it is to think it's true
My beauty is there through and through.

My laugh created true love,
Now he kisses me with hugs.
He proclaims his adornment of my attributes:
My hair, my smile, that I am cute.
All of his love fills me with joy,
Yet my insides are completely destroyed.

A wall is formed for compliments,
They are read but not allowed in. 
No matter how much I try to let them win
My true beauty has to come from within.
It will take the course of a lifetime
To feel the sweet, sweet freedom of my own sublime.