Et Ecce Muntantus

Behold! The Mutant  
   
You say that I am pretty, but I’m naught.          
Handsome?... perhaps, but soul of shattered steel.              
True passion… wanting, were it even sought.              
And looks of love?... perhaps, but no thing real.              
              
You love my face, my smile, my body’s fit,            
But my true "self" you seemingly despise.              
Pronouncements made as if devoid of wit,              
An errant dog… in handsome man disguise.            
              
A better wraith or monster I would be,              
A half-formed thing from which you’d turn away.              
A thing perhaps that’s hideous to see,              
For thing(‘)s humanity cannot betray.            
              
So in your eyes a mutant I would seem,              
If with that look my humanness redeem.