Don't you think, don't you dare to apologise for ugly.
Stare down all the insta-people leering at you smugly.
All their lives rely on lies, their facts are cheap elastic.
You know they're only like that cos of fakery and plastic.

You feel what's proper beautiful, the stuff which transcends time.
It's comfortable and joyful with occasional sublime.
It hurts behind the eyes if you see too much at a go;
Behind the ears if touched by it; finale when you know.

You're Velux sunshine;
I'm a floating speck of dust:
Warm, strong, making time;
Glinting for a moment just
Before becoming grime.