I thought you were beautiful

Not shallow beauty,
Skin deep
The kind of beautiful like the sun
Shining on a tree leaf
Showing its veins

Beautiful like,
The sound of a creek
After a good storm

Like the feel of a summer breeze
On the back of my neck

I held you in awe

You were the mist,
Rising off the lake on a cool morning
The view from the top of my mountain,
In the fall when the leaves are colored

You were the violin music
Playing softly while I danced
The colors oil makes on the street
Just after it rains and the light hits it

I was nothing
A ghost,
In the darkest corridors of your haunted house
The typo on an old type writer,
Needing white out

I thought you were beautiful

I was raised up a Southern Baptist,
Never missed a Sunday
There I'd be, fourth row back
To hear what the preacher would say
He preached of pearly gates,
Streets paved with gold
He said we'd see our passed loved ones
And treasures we would behold
He spoke of damnation should we stray
In the lake of fire there to dwell
But honestly, I always thought,
I'd have to die to go to hell

I've always been told not to say my wishes out loud
So I live in a secret wish
It can never come true
Nor can it be told
Every day, I live in this wish
It drowns me
This dream, this wish
I can touch it
See it, hear it
But it can never be mine
I'm consumed by a wish
A fantasy, a thought
I've shed tears and begged the heavens,
My fist have beat the very earth
Still,
I wish