“Life is beautiful”, she would say.
“Negate everything but your heart.
Use its light as a beacon for others”
My dim mind disagrees

She thinks that God
Has blessed her with a gift
One for all to behold.
She doesn’t know
That my weak heart
Slowly dies as my mind
Steps all over it.

My thoughts, they process
The way acid rain falls on statues
Corroding the bodies
Of revered men
Who will just be memories
Often unspoken of.
I will be that statue
Defaced by time and spirit
Getting much more older
Yet much less wiser

If I truly am God’s light
Then the batteries must be reversed,
Or perhaps my ugly mind
Seized them away,
Never to spark
Through humankind.