They say beauty is in the eye of the beholder,
But I don't believe that.
Because if everyone does not see you the way I see you,
This would be a sad world.

I told you before
you are lovely
You said something like
no never not me

Well then maybe
I will take a photo
so you can know
how by this man's eyes
You are seen

A masterpiece of composition
Perfect like beautiful days

A song that maybe only
I will be humming
in all the loveliest
of lovely ways

Beauty is held
by the beholder
So that all might not
have to agree

Lovely is held
in a separate place
So that heartstrings
entwined believe

I will tell you again
You are lovely
Maybe you'll think
Then so you say

We will not need
to look at a photo
Yet you will know
You are truly lovely
In such a beautiful way

-R.

6.21.17
-LA
-4S

Whenever one lays their eyes upon us,
What is perceived is something that exists
Only at the peripheries of their mind, while
Things that makes us, us, are the opposite.

One would gasp in awe at someone's beauty,
Shiver in excitement about their courage and might,
Imagine countless friends and lovers they have;
How success is their husband and joy is their wife.

Surely, for them, talent blossoms like a flowers,
And everyone knows when and why they laugh, and joins;
And if they ever cry(why would they at all?),
More than one soothing arm awaits their call.

While what is unseen lurks beneath beholder's delusions,
Who wants to see what one envies most and searches for
In oneself in vain. As how they see us is the opposite
of us, true, but the opposite of themselves at the time as well.

In the eye of the beholder,
Or should I say de listener?
The lucid muse of Mozart,
We're all human, though worlds apart,
Elvira Madigan's dreaming,
Mozart plays Mozart, so it's seeming,
Mozart in Heaven streaming
Into the ear of the de listener,
Of is it the eye of the beholder???????

The cycle has started
Its set to wash
but everything is so FILTHY
Everything in life cycles
Spinning slowly
Slightly misshapen circles
Nothing and everything's perfect
It's in the eye of the beholder
Not sureWE CAN COMPREHEND 100%
So much lost between the lines


Double spaced
All these layers
Not sure if we can cope with the answer
Maybe questioning is the answer
for all is one
and we are god
We make or own reality
but it seems it's now blocked by this technology
Slightly misshapen circles
Over circles forming bigger circles
They may seem perfect in some eyes
They say circles within circles represent power
The chalice the gift of life
Drinking from the breast of a broken society

Why is the shadows considered evil
When the shadows are as important as the light
As darkness is the absence of daylight
Just as Daylight is the absence of dark

Why is a hero considered pure
When the hero is just as murderous as the villain
As the hero is in the eye of the beholder
Just as a villain is only villainous to the victims

What rarity can acclaim to this elusive title? Where surely
claiming it itself is against its nature.
It might be what our mothers told grubby faced, knee
knocked flecks that dart from graffitied parks
when light turns dark.
Is it in the eye of the beholder, a stubborn piece
of irritating dust? Perhaps those who search
will never be rewarded with a glimpse as
perfection becomes unfathomably further.
Why does the haughty swan rise when the
it squawks more than the pigeon?

Beauty is boxed. It is wrapped in parcels and
swaddled in ribbon until one forgets that it is in the child's
face and not his hands.
Unmeasurable pleasure shouldn't be contained, it roams and commands like a caged tiger. It controls the eye and navigates,
onward soldier. So perhaps it is not rare at all but there
for all customary enough to
anticipate the undeniable.

A bar of soap wrapped with candy and sugar?
Or an emerald diamond hidden in a nasty ******?

Can we truly see, or can we just look?
A marvellous story written on the pages of an old dusty book

A short chubby girl with guts and nerves
While she has long legs and perfect curves

Her blue eyes and long blonde hair cause obsessions
but her eyes are sore and she lost her hair during the countless chemo sessions

She steals their hearts, and gets what she prefers
While she prays the nights as cancer steals her's

Now did you find this a bit confusing?
Because the chubby girl maybe outside cruising

While she prays
Counting her last days

Which one is which?
Did they just switch?

Or did you switch them?
You forgot about the rose petals because you were too busy gripping the stem.

Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, but what if the beholder is blind?
The more we search inside, the more beauty we'll find.

And as for the two girls, it is not our job to know
because we cannot judge what does not show.