Ugly ugly girl
You try so hard, but it never works
You paint your face to make it clear
You wear lashes so your eyes are big
And line your lips so they look full
You even try to fix your nose
The curl in your hair is to match your face
And the hairspray so it doesn’t go away
Lastly perfume so they say you smell sweet
Yet even with the money you pay
Or the time you spend
Stroking, drawing, blending for perfection
You still seem so broken
Like you’ve always been
It never goes away no matter how hard you try to cover it
Ugly ugly girl
You try so hard but it never works
You will never stop aching to be pretty
So you can be put back together

Not even Black
***** brownish grey
with wings that do not fly
only good to cover his eyes
discarded by rejection
he only comes out at night
on crinkly legs
walking by  the riverside
the trees nod for they do not care
in the park
pretty women meander at dusk
no one will see him
no one will bother
there will be someone always
to ring the bells

I do not like them
not at all
I refuse to pay, take the fall
Oh Dear Canada please build us a wall


I tried to cross the border
no success, they said I have to pay
what?
tariffs they said
oh my, oh my for me? why?
you are ugly
we have a 25% tariff on ugly Canadians
I was shocked, as that's a lot
I showed them my passport again
please reconsider?
they looked and said *** do you not have a mirror?
for you is times three, 75%

All my mirrors broke and cracked long ago
what could I say?

No Ugly America for me

Our purest laughs are in our dreams —
Laughing lungs out, sounding a bit psychotic;
Who's there to judge how ugly they really sound?

A mystical lake
deep in a hidden forest
simmering sunsets
ferns swaying softly in the shallows
there lived a bevy of Swans
content in their surrounding of tranquility
both graceful and majestic, except for one
the ugliest swan, draped in muddy black
tolerated, he would swim amongst the others
quietly, he lived in his tears
for the one he admired the most
stayed far away
on the other side of the lake

I am no Romeo
other than good at dying
romance is for the beautiful
I miss the most essential of ingredients
         paintings now only black
                   poetry that never dries
                                a garden that no longer blooms
I walk alone in the forest
gazing  down at dead foliage
scattered bones among the leaves
I hear the faint sound of an animals chant
before I realize
it was from a time long ago