She is ugly

But no one will say it to her face

I suspect it’s not polite

 

When she enters, everyone nods and smiles

But, they’re not glad to see her

It’s not really nice to meet her

They are not glad she could make it

But had rather hoped she would not

Now uneasy because they’ve talked about her

 

When she speaks, they place their hands on their hearts

But, they’re really gripping their chests in pain

They say, “You poor thing.”

But, they begin to feel sorry for themselves

Because she has never been told she was ugly

At least not to her face