Katie Foster's poem takes the old saying "beauty is in the eye of the beholder" and turns it into a complaint. If beauty depends on who is looking, the speaker asks, what happens when the one looking is you? Her answer is that you get a bad judge. She describes herself as a blind beholder who can't see her own worth, even when other people tell her about it, and who feels her light is always outshined.
The mood is sad and a little wistful. The repeated line about the beholder keeps circling back, much like the speaker's thoughts about herself. She wishes she could see herself the way others do. The poem ends on a quiet, trailing hope, with the dots and the line pushed across the page: she wants to find someone who can see her beauty, since she can't see it herself.