beauty

When I was small, I thought I was pretty, But now, at fifteen, it's makeup that's witty. Jacob calls me pretty, but I don't believe, I just want to be like the popular girls, you see. Why can't I be like them, so pretty and bright, Why do I feel like such a fright? I cry in the mirror, asking why, Why can't I fit in? Why can't I just fly? I long to be pretty, like the girls that I see, But without makeup, that will never be. I wish we could switch places, just for a day, So they could see how I feel and what I have to say. But for now, I'll keep wearing my mask, I hope that one day, I can bask In the beauty that lies within me, And finally, feel pretty, just me.