You have your mother's eyes;

But the world is telling you

That they are not big enough

So you despair

And you envy

The doe-eyed beauties

That you see on the covers of your books.

But lovely,

Do you not see that your eyes shine bright

Like the sun on a balmy, summer day

And maybe, the reason you cannot see this

Is that you are too busy

Lighting up the room

To see the radiance on your face.