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.
-
Author:
Jabberwocky (
Offline) - Published: October 9th, 2019 04:23
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 55
- Users 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.
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.