Seeing Through

If you call her beautiful 
Because of what your eyes behold, 
She is merely the front cover 
Of a story left untold. 
If you call her stunning 
Because her wrist wears things of gold, 
She is simply a possession, 
An item created to be sold. 
If you call her pretty 
Only to gain her heart’s control, 
Then she is just a follower,
A shapeless clay placed in your mold. 
If you are always looking at her
And never seeing through, 
Then you have no right to call her lovely, 
For the one you love is you.