Beautiful

4 Comments

Poem Commentary

This is me. It's what I am. If you don't like it, I'm sorry. But I can't be who you want me to be. I can only be me.

Beautiful

Faint footsteps down the hall
A pitter-patter on the cold stone tiles
She's awake again.


She creeps quietly to the door
Opens it with the faintest quiver in her hands
She's never snuck out before


But this night she must,
The outdoors are her sanctuary
The moon her sister,


The door closes quietly behind her
She gathers her pencils and paper
And heads for the roof


A coyote howls in a distant cornfield
ten twenty-two, right on cue
She climbs to the highest point
And begins to draw.


What is she drawing you ask?
It is nothing of fantasy,
Nothing from some indistinct world


No. It is her self portrait
Beautiful at first glance,
But the eyes give her intent away


Pain, suffering, loss
The eyes show it all
There are no tears,
The smile hides the fear.


She looks at her masterpiece
And begins to cry.
Why! She cries to her sister the moon.


Why can't they see!
The beauty inside of me that only I can see!
Though I am tortured,


I am beautiful.
I overcome,
I live, and I die.


Is she really that diferent?
No.
She is just like everyone else.


Beautiful
In her own way
Not in the world's way.

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poetheart87 commented on Beautiful

11-18-2009

You are beautiful. And obviously talented in a lot of aspects. This is a truly amazing write as are all your poems. I love this. The imagery was perfect and I loved that you let you be portrayed like this. It's deep, wonderful and touching.

RStornes commented on Beautiful

10-26-2009

It is a hauntily beautiful poem, I love the metaphors and yes the eyes are the window to the soul. What this world can't see within us God can see because he is our creator and he can fulfill every need in your life as well. Keep going with the beautiful work, I am looking forward to more.

TimG commented on Beautiful

10-26-2009

YES ! Not bad !! One must see themselves as who they are, not what others want them 2 be !

Poetry is either something that lives like fire inside you or else it is nothing, an empty formalized bore around which pedants can endlessly drone their notes and explanations.

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frazel5’s Poems (22)

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