You see my hairs frizzy and dry,
I see my dreams growing within.
You see my eyes sore and small,
I see the world through out and in.
You call me small you call me short ,
but I stare so far and I stare so high,
You find my face rough and dark,
but I use it to cover up all my cry.
You find my feet ugly and cracked,
I make a million mile walk from it,
You find my journey waste and absurd,
I find your judgement not too fit.
My hands don't look so soft to you,
I still show my care to touch,
You call me nice you call me beautiful,
But the same time not so much.
And so much so is your criticism to me,
I don't get wary to hear it though,
But you will one day realize that,
What do I actually mean to you.
And then you may actually see my hairs,
hiding you from the sharp sun,
my legs passing hurdles in your path,
And my laugh not a noise but fun.
My hands giving myriad promises,
my eyes adoring your successes,
And crying on your failures too,
But remain to be your witnesses.
You may not see it all today,
But one day you will be,
When I wouldn't be with you,
When I would no more see.
