You Must Not Know What Pretty Means

YOU MUST NOT KNOW WHAT PRETTY MEANS

Dry those tears, sister.
Who told you that you’re ugly?
Don’t you think that way.

Give me a minute
And I’ll set the record straight—
A guy’s point of view.

No, you don’t look like
The bouncy blonde cheerleaders,
Skinny and shallow.

Your kind of pretty
Might not make the jocks slobber
Or sell underwear.

But just look closely:
You’ll see a bright, confident,
Desirable girl—

Someone who’d never
Tamper with her eyes or smile,
Smothered in makeup.

That’s how you stand out
From the herds of flirt queens all
Gussied up for sport.

Some people get it:
You become more attractive
The more they know you.

You’re still my sister,
And even though no one would
Think we’d be best friends,

If you can’t see how
You’re beautiful, you must not
Know what pretty means.