Death of the ugly duckling.

Kneeling in front of the mirror,

Ugly looks force me to shiver; my words to quiver.

Sulking the thin air through my fat, chubby mouth,

Ugly looks force me to shout.

Messy hairs and dark skin tone,

Bounds me to imagine a wolf; totes lone.

Tears roll down my dark-brown spotted cheeks.

Ugly Looks forces me to cry, until my pinkie handkerchief leaks.

Intermittently, warm fingers collect my tears,

Saying that they are useful in lubricating emotional gears,

Saying hurting myself is mean.

Warm-fingered Knight disappears like mist.

And, now ugly looks gave me the motivating list.

Ugly looks no more made me cry,

And the UGLY DUCKLING in me died.

Thanks to my masked knight.