Beauty is in
The eyes of the beholder
The heart of the lover
And the mind of the seer
They swoon and swoon
For her affections before noon
To sweep her off her
delicate little feet for dinner
Competition is swift for her
Aggressive and quick for her
They all want to be her first love
The purest and most innocent--
of all things, the heart of the untouched
And the unloved
She wears little white dresses,
skips on sundays, cleans up her messes,
and curls her hair for brunch
The beholder, lover and seer call her name
But she thinks they're all kind of lame
For she isn't into those gentlemen
No, no, not one bit
They just don't seem to match her wit
She is luminous, brighter than most
Just because she's beautiful
Doesn't make her delusional