Beauty is Sad

art back view black and white dark
Photo by Matheus Bertelli on

The flashes of lights and the raised voices of the crowd,

They will drown her out, her voice cannot match her sound,

Talk over her, they know all about her;

Did you know she sleeps on leaves on top leaves beneath a shower of even more leaves?

Well sometimes they cause rashes and they offer nothing against the heat nor the cold…

But did you see the way she looked in that bark outfit though,

I had cuts and bruises weeks after that…

I wonder if anyone is selling her stick shoes…

You can get those off the ground…¬†


I live in the mind of him to whom the world is sour,

I am boundless of joy but deep in understanding,

I am soft of heart and cold towards oppression,

I do not pass the street urchin, nor do I leave the beggar unchanged,

I give, during the frost, my warmth and the hungry my food,

The limbless use my feet and the voiceless my voice,

I am the sword of justice, missing no sinner, slaying all sins,

Spying all oppressors, destroying all tyrannies; laying waste to the din.

I live in the mind of him to whom all these things cost sleep.


Between the edges of my frame, all is bare for you to see,

The inside of me is forced to abide your scrutiny,

I cannot close my legs, I’ve lost control of this part of me,

There is judgement in your stare, but I am not outside looking in

It is a shame that you carry opinions when all I feel is one word,

And you all would know it but for the glass wall in front of me.

And the stone wall behind.


Listen to her voice, from the depths of her darkness,

Where all things will lie, in the everlasting fastness,

The intangible whirling that crosses her back,

The soft coolness that penetrates it and soon goes back,

On top of which all things that breathe come to her for their nap,

For when awake all they do is take from inside her womb,

It is their tomb, it will also be their doom.


Your blood flows warm inside you but you feel the ice under your skin,

You know the feel of her skin, thus recognition shouldn’t perhaps¬†wear thin,

Why do you assume intelligence, takes the form of the loud spoken?

We are not even remotely beholden.

You sound like a braying ass,

I really should not give you a pass

The human condition;

Let me give you my fear, this is how I care for you.




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