He failed to see just how
Beautiful he was that day
He'd never felt the love
He had so often given away
Heart-broken
Too many times before
He chose to lock it up
Before it again hit the floor
The mirror he gazed into
Reflected former flings
Girls he so admired
But pushed him aside for better things
Never seeing his true value,
He instead closed the gate
Tried to hide how much
He wallowed in self-hate
The mask he wears says 'prideful'
The persona says 'self-centered'
But the costume came to pieces
When, once, a caring soul entered
He failed to see just how
Very much he had
The soul that called him perfect
Could never be more sad
His beauty was a mystery
But to only his own eyes
When praised, he scoffed the praiser
Disregarding his own demise
Perhaps a day will come
When a like-hearted being
Will show him his true value
And he'll believe what they've been seeing
But still he remains
Ignorant and cold
Because from the right person,
What he longs for hasn't been told
The affection he received
Couldn't have felt more wrong
For he wasn't ready to give
What he'd wanted all along
Being called perfect
Seemed more like a curse
He wasn't ready to accept
That love makes one's vision worse
The crooked way he saw himself
Didn't deserve a title like such
For the one who spoke, he saw crookedly too
And he could never care as much
Dozens of girls he so admired
Yet when admired in the same way,
He failed to see how beautiful
He was to her that day
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem