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Beauty is in the eye of the beholder,
And the beauty inside I see.
But the beauty that I behold,
The tough and hardened exterior, they let be.
Their history of past boyfriends,
Have taught them to be that way,
Their previous lovers, all started out like me,
But over time they turned, using and hurting them,
Some even swimming with other fish too. 
So now they always wait, for the change to appear,
But when they realise I won’t change,
Their then filled with fear,
I seem to be what they dream of, but how can that be true,
History has taught them, I do not exists,
So back to the waiting, for surly I must change,
Just a matter of time, denying what I really am,
Anticipation grows, waiting for the turn,
Then they start to treat me how they expect me to change,
I never do turn, as that is not who I am,
But they can not bare the anticipation and push me away.
I now realise, a choice I have to make,
Find a way to become, what they expect me to be,
I may find some love, but I would then loose me,
Or stay the way I am, and be lonely ‘till I die.
If I choose the latter, I’d wish the end to be nigh,
But with the other choice, surely I’d have already died.
Herein lies my dilemma, what am I to do,
I want to love and be loved, but I want to stay me too.

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