I praised her for her beauty;
For her long length of skin.
She wanted to be praised though,
For beauty held within.
The problem was that beauty
Inside was not so much;
Just intelectual hubris
I did not like to touch.
Her skin was soft dark velvet
And salty to my tongue.
Her soul was full of bitterness
For praises never sung.
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Author:
Jabberwocky (
Offline) - Published: October 9th, 2019 04:23
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 55
- User favorite of this poem: sylviasearcher.
Offline)
Comments2
That’s normally how it goes..’praises never sung’..sad but true ..there’s so much more than the flesh but sometimes we lose to learn..deep write🌹
a very good emotive write, beauty is on the inside of people no matter how beautiful (or ugly) they look.
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