Now Vincent frowns at the mirror
that's been frowning at him,
they cannot see what they want
to see.
"How can anyone find love in this?
It's a cruel life when you look like me."
A kind heart hidden by what isn't kind to
the eye,
let the observer fail to see,
for looking never could detect this worth
though it's more than any form could be.
But if it hides
like this, how will she know? He says,
"Could you be blind enough to see
all that I am beneath this shell,
and could you grow
in love with who I am
in spite of what eyes will tell?
Could you like me better as I age and weather,
will the wrinkles cool your embrace?
Oh,
there is so much to find and prize
if we're blind enough to delve it."
Those who learn to admire the best in us
are those who
are clouded no longer by their vision.
Daisy beams at the mirror, could there be any fairer?
but her brow clouds over, she says,
"I
feel like a sandwich on display,
I'm so weary of hungry stares.
Loving the way I look is not loving me."
She says,
They're singing,