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The Black Beast
Hertfordshire    Poetry for me is a way to express myself in a way that forces me to think about what I'm writing. Slightly calming and yet …
Beauteous Beast
Ogygia    this is my diary. feel free to judge my thoughts

Poems

The Good Pussy May 2015
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                                 Beast
                            Beast Beast
                          Beast Beast Be
                         Beast Beast Bea
                             Beast Beast
                             Beast Beast
                             Beast Beast
                             Beast Beast
                             Beast Beast
                             Beast Beast
                             Beast Beast
                             Beast Beast
                             Beast Beast
                             Beast Beast
                             Beast Beast
                             Beast Beast
                      Beast                Beast
                  Beast Beast      Beast Beast
             Beast Beast Be  ast Beast Beast
                Beast Beast        Beast Beast
                     Beast                 Beast
SelinaSharday Apr 2018
The beast loving the beast he didnt have
sympathy for beauty and the way that beauty should be treated.
Beauty she didnt have the ******* nature of
reality that means the way a beast should be. Beauty and her Beast
The tender love and affection that beauty needed.
Was often ignore rejected and neglected.
from the beast.
The same way, that beauty wasnt able to
saddle the ******* meaness
and the rocky foundation.
That the beast was used to. To accept him being what he is.
Unloving uncaring ungiving.
because he is better known as this beast.
Beauty and her Beast.
Beauty would often be torn ravished and taken for granted.
While the beast would often feast on the tender meat.
Of Beauty! Ravishing and seeking, beastly taking.
Barely ever having anything descent to be giving.
No kindness no loving ways, no maturity.
Because the beast didnt even love himself.
This beast he be!
Sometimes as beauty would be recovering
she'd reach for him in his rocky
******* places and it would leave her torn.
In tragedy torn ripped places because Beauty.
Needs peace beauty needs sweet relief.
That couldnt be provided.
By a ravishing Beast.
Beasty and her beast.
The way he seeks,, the way he treats the way he harms.
The way he rings alarms.
Beauty would sigh love me! The Beast would say Hate me.
Hate me I am Beast!
My Features are beast My ways are Beast.
My Heart is beasty. For I remember am Beast.
Beauty would cry Love me, desire me, want me,
Cherish Me, feed me nourish me.
comfort me, cradle me.
For I am beauty and I seek love and maturity.
I am Beauty. Do Not Devour me.
But nourish me and treat me kindly  
And Know that I am beauty.
I seek sweet sleep sweet deliverance
For I am Beautiful I need not  a Beast!
Don't be beasty let me transform you into my Prince charming
my romantic knight and shinning armor.
can I kiss the beast and he turn into my romantic beast.

By SelinaSharday.. All Rights reseved S.A.M 2018
LOVE UNMATCHED.
hear it on soundcloud
https://soundcloud.com/selinaros3y/beautyher-beast-poem-1
Red-Writing-Hood Jun 2013
Written by Cocoa & RedWritingHood

Both: For who could ever learn to love a beast?

Beauty: I have and will and would again. They were a wolf in sheep's clothing, learning to love was never the issue. With my heart on my sleeve, I merely lend it to others and like a used tissue they toss it back to me without the slightest pang of guilt in their chest. But that's okay...I've become accustomed to your mood swings because learning to love was never the problem, but breaking the bond - forgetting the unforgettable - imagining impossible depths of hell without you was almost...

Beast: INFURIATING! Love me, you said. Love me and I will not break, you lied. You were a porcelain doll just waiting to smash to the floor. You knew my hands would shake, you must have. You asked me to press them into, you promised you would - not - break. But you did. One swing and you shattered. Two swings, and you came back for more by three my hands were cut and bruised and still, you asked me to love you, as if I, could not break

Beauty: Into a million pieces like the mirror you smashed the night you told me I ruined your life. And I let your words hit me blow after excruciating blow, acting as your punching bag and why? Because the only thing more painful than loving a beast who breaks you down rose petal after rose petal...is learning to let them go

Beast: It felt more like you were reeling me back in. Every time I tore a petal off I knew what I was doing. I wanted to leave you. I wanted to love you the only way I knew how. How do you walk away from the one who pleads they are only more broken when you aren't there to put the pieces back together?

Beauty: So fix me
Beast: Break you
Beauty: Fix me like you always do
Beast: Old puzzles tend to lose their pieces
Beauty: You lost them
Beast: I know
Beauty: You, lost, them. You're losing me.
Beast: I'M SORRY
Beauty: SORRY?
Beast: There's nothing I can do...

Beauty: You did everything, you broke me down and sold me for parts, love a beast? I adored you with every fibre of my being you were my oxygen, I never asked you to breathe just to take me in and you took me for granted, took my innocence, took my sanity and smashed it like it was

Beast: Nothing. I'm so sorry. I'm begging you, stop. There's still beauty that lies within.

Beauty: I guess that's the piece you lost. You're a beast.

Beast: For who could ever learn to love

Beauty: A beast