Reminds me of that Aesop's Fable about the Peacock and the Crane.

Orange waves of light,

splash across the clouds,

as day fades into night,

against the Eastern sky,

a Peacock fans his tail,

before a Crane passing by,

"I am clothed like Kings,

in purple and gold,

but no colors on a bow,

after rain does show,

on your ashen wings,"

ridicules the Peacock.

"Yes, this is true,

I am cloaked in a dusty hue,"

replies the Crane,

"but to the heights

of Heaven I soar,

into the Sea of Stars I sing,

you compare no sights,

but a rat on the shore,

pretending to be a King."

— u/wanderingUlysses

I turned that story into a poem.

I believe not judging a book by its cover is a very wise sentiment indeed.