Tell me

Tell me, why can't some see,
The beauty that others do see in me..
Why is there so much difference
In what people think of me?

I still remember the way they called me all those names,
Just to make themselves feel better.
I still remember the day I prayed; I wish I was gone,
At least that would bring me to heaven and to my mom.

But then there was the day, that you called me a beauty.
Didn't know what I had heard.
Someone that called me that
Isn't that absurd?

And then I realized some beauty in myself.
But the ugliness was still there.
Except that choice wasn't to myself.
But to them.

To those of which I know that I am better now.
'Cause I've started to believe in myself.