Am I ugly?

I wonder what it’s like to be pretty,
I guess I’ll never know.
Why would a sixteen-year-old claim she’s not pretty?
Should I blame society or should I blame myself?
A thousand questions left unsettled.
I remember my mother telling me that I was a pretty girl, how I radiated the room I entered,
Where is that girl now? Why did I lose her?
I went into a dark abyss, crying my heart out in the silence of the night,
With every tear rolling down my face, I wondered where it all went wrong.
I was not brought up to cry in silence, I was not brought up to consider myself ugly.
How do I alter my thoughts?
Am I in desperate need of validation? Or is it all just in my head?
Forlorn in these unanswered paths.
But then who will answer my questions or am I the solution to my own answers?
I cannot rest until I find my answers.
Or perhaps, it is time to eradicate these abhorrent thoughts and start loving myself,
Liberate myself from these unanswered questions,
Because the answer lies within me!