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
May 8, 2016
May 8, 2016 at 6:21 PM UTC
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
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