Not a sad poem but spontaneous thoughts written down in ink
permanent like the stars exploding with words waiting to sink
perfection cannot be forced
only when there is no attention
“Beautiful things do not ask for attention”
Beauty is your perfection
perfection is what you make it
but out of every obsession of mine
beauty is my addiction
its everywhere
playing hiding and seek
with your heart or with your eyes
it makes me cry
or makes me fly
beauty is in some of the most darkest eyes
or the brightest smiles
the longest miles we run to find ourselves
whether it be on the strings of a guitar
or the sway of a paintbrush
none for fame
bitterness is all washed away
beauty is love
the sun
fun
your mind on the run
adventure
eccentric
rain on a bad day
a hand to guide the way
a canvas exploding in every which way
a free feeling that just can’t go away
home
the ones that never left
a kiss that you never forgot
a tear that fell because you just felt like it
beauty is millions of things
but its all the same
beauty is insane
sometimes that\'s a good thing.