Ugly Duckling

In a family of siblings With chiseled features, The odd one out I was; An ugly duckling, Which my family, however, Didn’t mind. My friends pitied me— For my Sphinx-like face, My enemies laughed at my Socratic figure. I personally don’t approve of my looks either. I would, however, look in the mirror on the sly, At the wash basin At home or in a restaurant, Or in an airport rest room, And flatter myself on my charm! Suppose that some girl, by chance or choice, Tells me: “You’re charming.” I would instantly suspect her; Easily attribute ulterior motives to her; Instinctively shun her. I was looking for some compensation, Some way of making up for what I am not. Luckily, I happened to overhear Eliot say: Poetry is an escape from personality. So swiftly I escaped! ***