She cries because she hides in plain sight
Her darkened wings rarely catch light
From her beak to her feet,
Clothed in black
Her feathered language speaks through the night
Anger and hate fade to disbelief
A cautionary tale, but who is the beast?
And who then is Beauty?
Does she only exist in books?
Concerned only with wit to cover her looks.
Beauty, she is not
So she won't use her eyes
Beauty, a false idol crafted with lies
Good things and bad thjngs, she doesn't Invision things that way
The color of sight for her is just gray
For her blindness and blackness
She blames her creator
For if he did love her,
Why act as if he hate her?
If she could not attract his light,
Why did he make her?
| These words come to mind: Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. I could ad that: You can find beauty in all things if you're a beautiful person like you can find misery everywhere if you're a miserable human being. :D Keep up the good work lori, we are a dying breed. I've also posted a poem I wrote recently. Maybe, I will find time to write some more this year...||| Posted on 2017-04-10 00:00:00 | by Paradox | [ Reply to This ] || very powerful. the pain the character feels has been vividly portrayed by the absence of color and happy thought. cursing the thought of beauty, the whole part demeaning the false idol was beautifully worded. a wonderful piece.||| Posted on 2017-03-27 00:00:00 | by gwenn sundala | [ Reply to This ] |