Not being the pretty one
Growing up was tough not fitting into the definition of beauty nor being a joy for many eyes. When all my pretty friends were hailed with the hymns of their enchanting beauty I was weeping in the corners, feeling ugly My skin turned even darker hearing those cruel remarks for not being on the fairer side. I was the tiny eyes and crooked teeth that's how the world saw me the rest being invisible to the judging eyes. Eventually my own eyes switched sides when even the mirror on my wall shut me out for not being the pretty one.