I may not be beautiful,I may not be tall,I may have no legs,And be hairy and all.I may not be rich,With lifestyle or clothes,I may not tweet,For my arms are too low.I may have warts,An acne or two,I may be incomplete,Compared to all of you.But when I see,The reflection of me,I see someone beautiful,And I know it's me.
This was different. He didn't want a woman. He wanted her. And he supposed that if he had to spend the afternoon being strange, sad, and disfigured just to be in her company, it would be well worth it. Then he remembered the wart. He turned to Miss Wynter and said firmly, "I am not getting a wart."Really, a man had to draw the line somewhere.