"shames" poems
the rude gesture when one seeks the inelegant simplicity of
no words;
no words
suffice to say,
magnitude of some offenses requires physicality;
a physicality that injures nothing but the
surrounding atmosphere of
its pride
for it’s pride
that goeth before the fall,
the pursuit of dishonor and dishonoring,
given that,
it shames the giver as much if not more so
dishonor
for words are our truest masters
I'd rather you gave a round shout out of
**** you,
for as the parents say these days
use your words
rather than show me your
nail chewed runty midfielder
ah, words...I do so love them beasties
May 8, 2018
May 8, 2018 at 1:00 PM UTC
This sunlight shames November where he grieves
In dead red leaves, and will not let him shun
The day, though bough with bough be over-run.
But with a blessing every glade receives
High salutation; while from hillock-eaves
The deer gaze calling, dappled white and dun,
As if, being foresters of old, the sun
Had marked them with the shade of forest-leaves.
Here dawn to-day unveiled her magic glass;
Here noon now gives the thirst and takes the dew;
Till eve bring rest when other good things pass.
And here the lost hours the lost hours renew
While I still lead my shadow o’er the grass,
Nor know, for longing, that which I should do.
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Hellfire do not go out!
Please just stay as you are
Once in the flames I wander through an answerless world
All the embers burning all the people are turning, trying to get away..
Hellfire do not go out!
Please just stay as you are
No matter how much they walk, no matter how far...
In the end they are consumed by these merciless flames
Burnt away, until not even their names,
Are remembered here, in this world full of shames
As the fire burns I ask myself wether this is a nightmare or not
And as it consumes my very soul and makes me then rot
I begin to then understand my very purpose, my destiny
Just being fuel for that fire to burn is what was planned for me
Oh Hellfire, will you go out ?
No, once you are about to go out, you just keep roaring loud
Come back hotter, more painful than I can take
My body is burning up, I think my mind is going to break
And as this torture goes on
I wished I would be gone
~ Umi
Jan 15, 2018
Jan 15, 2018 at 5:49 PM UTC
The velvet blush of sunrise,
Shames the brightest of stars.
May 4, 2015
May 4, 2015 at 9:11 PM UTC
I
LEAGUERED in fire
The wild black promontories of the coast extend
Their savage silhouettes;
The sun in universal carnage sets,
And, halting higher,
The motionless storm-clouds mass their sullen threats,
Like an advancing mob in sword-points penned,
That, balked, yet stands at bay.
Mid-zenith hangs the fascinated day
In wind-lustrated hollows crystalline,
A wan valkyrie whose wide pinions shine
Across the ensanguined ruins of the fray,
And in her lifted hand swings high o'erhead,
Above the waste of war,
The silver torch-light of the evening star
Wherewith to search the faces of the dead.
II
Lagooned in gold,
Seem not those jetty promontories rather
The outposts of some ancient land forlorn,
Uncomforted of morn,
Where old oblivions gather,
The melancholy, unconsoling fold
Of all things that go utterly to death
And mix no more, no more
With life's perpetually awakening breath?
Shall Time not ferry me to such a shore,
Over such sailless seas,
To walk with hope's slain importunities
In miserable marriage? Nay, shall not
All things be there forgot,
Save the sea's golden barrier and the black
Closecrouching promontories?
Dead to all shames, forgotten of all glories,
Shall I not wander there, a shadow's shade,
A spectre self-destroyed,
So purged of all remembrance and ****** back
Into the primal void,
That should we on that shore phantasmal meet
I should not know the coming of your feet?
3.7k
Love too much
Hurt too much
Always needing a heart to touch
Limitless sources of abundance so clear
No ability to cause you harm or unnecessary fear
Sometimes momentary blindness, inability to truly hear
Critical lapses of excruciating, intensity from my vivid past
Try, as I might, to make the most healthy relationship last
As days turn into nights, I wish a moment of bliss with you that would last.
Not sure anymore, of anything that is real
Putrid, agonizing, annoyance seems to keep me off keel
Hoping, dreaming and wanting for my positive feelings to be real
Lustful thoughts of our time together feel ****** and surreal
In the midst of the anger and bitterness, I realize I am able to feel.
Seductive, entranced, mesmorized with true love stamped within our hearts, forever sealed.
The dripping of the lukewarm indecision has grown old, decrepit and shames me in despair
Ready now for the realness of a soul mate, never knowing one that cared.
So here it goes, where it ends, know one knows… now that my soul has been given and shared.
In the end, where I have always been
Crushed within the lions den
Here I am, nothing hidden, never knowing the why and when.
My heart is now yours and given of my free will
Never again will I have to trudge up the loneliness hill.
The love that I seek has been found in you
With a light in our eyes, yours sparkling blue.
The things in my past that riddled me with fear
When the darkness replaced the light is no longer here.
I'm trusting you to love me and hope it is true.
This poem was written especially for you.
Dec 28, 2012
Dec 28, 2012 at 1:21 PM UTC
Who can tell?
Whether malice has its own purity?
If odor has its own fragrant smell?
Does right wrong right
Or wrong right wrong?
Could darkness have its own light?
What do you know?
Guilt might have its own innocence
For all you know
Humility and modesty
Could just be a show
This is how life is
You either laugh hard
Or you cry in pain
You love too much
Or you die in vain
If you don’t make someone smile
You end up being a bore
If you dress up too guile
You are tagged a *****
You may be very pretty
but deceitful in act
You may be called ugly
but are beautiful in fact
In sadness
you’re creative
In happiness
well that is tentative
and yet sans it too
you may appear narrative
If you know too much
you realize how less you knew
If you are too ignorant
you realize that all lies are just few
Humor shames trivialities
Irony is the truth about absurdities
We scorn at all harsh realities
So we smile at its mockeries
Could love really be true?
And hatred absolutely false?
Is sadness a gloom
Covered in joy so sparse
like a dull audience
forced in its applause?
Without a doubt
A truth has a lie hidden
Simply because
The mirror isn’t clear
It hides many flaws
and your aesthetic sin
deep within
If you counted the seconds
and minutes and the hours
Will you still be wasting time?
Or would you still
have to make an orange juice
out of a dainty lime?
What’s rhetoric
if a question has an answer
if silence it’s own message
and guns and bullets
its own power?
What’s the point
If you’re devising a plan
for your future
to become a big man
And you still say
that you don’t know
what might happen tomorrow
That it all looks bleak and dark
And you sit there
not working hard
you crib and worry
and fake a smile
to everyone
you appear
as blithe as a lark
We dwell with glee
In a world where
two extremes meet
Order deals with its chaos
And chaos struggles for order
Everyone fights
for the latter
And to straighten
an imbalanced balance
and dispel a dulcet clatter.
Aug 15, 2018
Aug 15, 2018 at 6:26 AM UTC
Evidently it was meant to be.
Long before I was born my DNA
sat on a shelf in God's laboratory,
a sticky note attached,
name, date of birth, perhaps
a tiny alarm to notify the lab
of inception.
God doesn't lose things
and God doesn’t forget.
It must be for a reason and
it must be meant to be.
A critical piece of who I am.
I should show a little pride because
as they say God don't make no ******
But I’m a little late to the party..
*The party that celebrates those who choose to be identified
by a gender other than the one they were born with,
but shames anyone who struggles with substance abuse.*
I'm having trouble understanding the difference.
If I were to gather my drug addled friends
and march down the street with banners and signs
demanding the right to openly inject mind altering
substances into my veins I would be seen as
a criminal and a derelict even though my constant struggle
came right off the shelf of God’s laboratory where
my sticky noted DNA sat right next to yours.
I guess I shouldn't care what people think..
I know my rights, and I demand to be accepted,
NO, praised for coming out so bravely,
carrying a new flag, flaunting in the streets,
paving the way for future generations of addicts.
I will take my God given DNA out of the dark
and go out into light,
light so bright you'll be forced to accept it.
accept my sickness!
embrace it!
this is in my DNA,
God made me this way
so it must be ok.
I feel better now.
I no longer feel guilty,
or depressed,
or weak,
or wrong,
or immoral,
No longer do I need to contain it.
no longer do I need to be shamed.
I am an addict and I am beautiful.
Just like you.
Oct 19, 2018
Oct 19, 2018 at 12:34 PM UTC
In the height of summer
The pond shrunk to a hyacinth heart.
The kingfishers left for crystal streams
Village belles no more washed their hidden shames
Kids broke their frolics on her kissing splashes
And men dipped not in her to whisper secrets.
She prayed to hold through all the pains.
The sky heard her and sent her rains.
Aug 15, 2015
Aug 15, 2015 at 11:19 AM UTC
Bleed me dry
Take all that remains
Carry my corpse
And take the burden of my shames
An empty shell of what used to be
So beautiful but so damaged was she
Never would have that we would be
I needed you more than words can describe
My everything, my eternal lullaby
Quietly rearranging the pieces of me
Never causing commotion
Only bringing out emotions never before seen
Tainted, touched
Your distress equated to my lust
Armed with your pain
Slicing and dicing hoping to never hit a vein
Your words evaded, while my mind corroded
Slowly dipping into insanity
Please please don't take me
Pleading for a retrieve
I only wanted you to receive
All of the pent up love
Inside of me, just waiting to be released
I deemed you worthy of it all
Now we tumble as we both take the fall
Graceful we are not
Both of us ****** up from the start
Bleak and diseased does our love grow
Two bludgeoned bodies trying to make it through
I promised I would never leave you
Only to be deceived by you
You understand my pain and yet here we are
I'm ending up with even more scars
While you look on from afar
But it's okay because I was already dead anyway
Nov 11, 2012
Nov 11, 2012 at 8:22 PM UTC
Part of me says stay small, part go big
Part says eat your fill, part don’t pig
Kenko says: long life brings many shames
I say the gray sky brings winter, no blame
The impassable mountains we revere
Moderate the force of wind and water
Get the cement truck into the refrigerator
We shall honor all of life sooner or later
Anything can happen if you don’t resist
To get lucky you gotta be careful first
You discover dying’s much like living
Who should I thank for the pity of things?
O to have the smile of a lover
Who wouldn’t rather be elsewhere!
Jun 13, 2023
Jun 13, 2023 at 6:23 AM UTC
Is it thy will thy image should keep open
My heavy eyelids to the weary night?
Dost thou desire my slumbers should be broken
While shadows like to thee do mock my sight?
Is it thy spirit that thou send’st from thee
So far from home into my deeds to pry,
To find out shames and idle hours in me,
The scope and tenure of thy jealousy?
O, no, thy love, though much, is not so great;
It is my love that keeps mine eye awake,
Mine own true love that doth my rest defeat,
To play the watchman ever for thy sake.
For thee watch I whilst thou dost wake elsewhere,
From me far off, with others all too near.
2.9k
Please remember to remember not to forget to remember
We braced the chill and last shared voices in November
When with reasons unknown you suddenly lost your temper
And in faceless avenue unseen you put it all in a damper
Please remember to remember not to forget to remember
Two minds steep in years hoping to revive a dying ember
Angling wisely for the solace of light in a peaceful chamber
Rising for noble ideals each a worthy conscientious member
Please remember to remember not to forget to remember
I stoke flames and called out doves in days before September
Not for glory or gain but in delight to fly a friend wishes tender
Homage to a smile Lisa, like that made by da Vinci the painter
Please remember to remember not to forget to remember
Now its time to seek the Sun afar in the land of greens and timber
soothing words that shows the grace and give of a friend keeper
Remains aloof to a joyless onerous mind that will only get sadder
Please remember to remember not to forget to remember
Empty pride rousing clouded mind makes it fittingly simpler
Strength and clarity to atone chimes only wit now't sinister
A truer pilgrim seeks pardon and deftly shames attitudes insular
To the wise what cost affinity in the garland of true harmony
Copyright. LaurenceA31stJuly2018.Allrightsreserved.
Jul 31, 2018
Jul 31, 2018 at 6:51 AM UTC
This life, although startling in its brilliance,
remains confined to the electrical shadows
cast on the walls of our brains.
Do you ever feel…
no, no, no
not feel.
Well maybe feel...
or sense…
that everlasting something
sometimes off in the distance I can see…
I’d love to take my hands
and, like the meaty instruments they are, dance
sweet symphonies up and down
your body.
Your mysterious mountains I wish to see closer
to land my ***** machine
among majestic silver seas and
strange beautiful grass of green.
I would use my subtle touch to say
what I couldn’t any other way and
drag you down to the depths.
But things are not so simple
in life
as in our thoughts,
nor so rough
as our poor idiotic language.
*Every hand, give me your hand.
I’ll talk to you, you wont understand.*
These electrical shadows cry at the ultimate,
but our mere conception shames it.
Like the dream tigers we desperately try to craft
they continue to disintegrate
like the castles made of sands,
rocks piled on rocks
reaching for the stars.
The firmer the hold,
the quicker it slips away.
“Just try squeezing the truth from water,”
the angels sing to me in my sleep.
And it’s the love of dreams
which is so greedy for recognition
swiftly performed in the sight of all.
And it’s the waves I feel…
well maybe not feel.
And I wanna say **** you”
because I still love you.
I sense…
well maybe not sense…
And I feel
my soul being slit up as if by a razor.
frenzied but beautiful and
an awful ambiguity grinning over it all,
cackling out the Tao’s opening words,
lukewarm to the point of being
enigmatic,
“The truth that can be told, that is no eternal truth.”
I guess after the laughter, then comes the tears.
**** you, Lao Tzu
and your ****** ancient wisdom.
Why you staring at my finger when I’m pointing at the moon?
I got nothing at all.
The center, unapproachable
forever.
You’re willing to die you coward
but not to live.
Love life more than the meaning of it.
Sep 19, 2011
Sep 19, 2011 at 8:25 PM UTC
...gives a shiver.....it shames me,
my weaknesses, are on the surface
needing, rises this misty evening.
this cold, cold night, further emphasizes,
i need God...His Light and Shadow, to
reassure me, when gray, covers blue skies
my loved ones are my inspirations
they feed my need to write
yet, they have their own concerns...
i humbly accept.....i am not my own island...
there's this urge to run...to race with gusty winds,
arrive fast, at my desired destination,
.......but, i am halted...always reminded...
...i listen to two soft voices within
..one is guiding...the other, almost rebelling...
i feel the chill from this empty space next to me
i'm a mix of want........and fear....for,
i need you this moment of twilight,
...and each long night that i stay awake
floating, in this expanse of darkness...
my conflicted soul...sends out signals of fear..
do my fears make me a craven coward?
the evening breeze makes its presence known
i weep in a hush, from thoughts of sailing...alone,
................ on life's lengthy moonlit bays........
..after enunciation
...of my true voice, my conscience
i could use some company
......like, i need you now
.............to help me make it,
...................through this night of exile...
Sally
Copyright September 19, 2016
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
Nov 9, 2016
Nov 9, 2016 at 12:05 AM UTC
Mister Blister, there he goes!
His shoes, they open for his toes.
His jacket has no sleeves at all.
His trousers, well, they just might fall.
He is a coarse and hairy sight.
He limps and dares not stand upright.
He has a shopping cart to push.
His bathroom is the nearest bush.
People yell and call him names,
and talk about the way he shames,
the neighborhood, and those who "care"
about the world they say we share.
But, Mister Blister is my friend.
He always has some time to spend.
He cares about what I say,
and remembers this from day to day.
He knows about my cares and fears
and what I try to say he hears.
Perhaps the others are too old
to see without life's blindfold.
I wish that he could freely live
and that the town, he could forgive.
They just don't know you like I do.
Mister Blister, I'm glad I do.
Sep 9, 2016
Sep 9, 2016 at 9:34 AM UTC
my hidden shames
are an excellent source of moral fibre,
nurturing, but not nutritious.
we coexist in a quiet
mutual acknowledgment,
coexisting but un-categorizable,
nonetheless,
among my oldest cohorts,
their singular coordinated characteristic,
they are mine alone,
not meant to be shared.
But they will someday
make an excellent poem.
Mon jan 2 2023
6:47am
@here
———————————————————-
the askew
are my oldest companion,
dating back to my naissance,
faithful, eternal, but single-minded,
with a rueful sense of humor,
of course,
refer to my relatively plentiful hairs
inherited from my mother’ genetics.
a morning chore,
to return their antics
to an adult,
dignified pose,
plenty sufficient to be be brushed,
straight back,
the preferred orderly compose,
of older men
who cannot waste time
with foolishness,
the excessive vanities of
curls, parts and pompadours,
and yet,
every day they wake me with
ridicule, mockery, by presenting
themselves.to me,
as if electrocuted,
each
hair raising itself
pointing to the heaven,
whence
their true Creator resides.
no amount of product
persuasive,
they do what they must do,
akimbo, askew,
with inordinate amount of
malice aforethought and
a venomous sense of
hairy (and now hoary)
absurdity .
a splash of water,
a handful of rigorous brush strokes,
returns order
and the pretense of a serious mien,
an adult demeanor.
But their purpose accomplished,
they have reminded me of the
absurdity of human vanity,
to humble myself
before forces
more powerful
than human self-aggrandizement
by accentuating
our human foibles.
7:13am
same time & place
——————————————-
morning prayers are
always
a trilogy
the rounded evenness of three,
provides the necessary gravitas
of sufficiency,
three being
not too short,
not too long,
not too quick,
just three right,
to impart
the seriousness
of gratitude
for having gained
another day upon earth,
with it,
many multitudes of
chances to share
thankfulness,
kindness,
yes,
& love too,
and to write,
one more poem
encapsulating
all of the above.
7:35am
same day
same place,
same cup of coffee
Jan 3, 2023
Jan 3, 2023 at 9:17 AM UTC
Gymnasiums
Modern battlegrounds,,
Those days...
Blood on the floor,
And spittle.
Rival towns,
White - Red.
Sitting Bull long gone,
Custer long dead.
Native sons,
Sons of pioneers
Still locked in enmities,
Remembrances of treaties broken,
Lying words,
Hatreds long unspoken.
So much of fear
So little trust,
Braggarts claiming coup,
Braggarts thinking war
Through basketball.
So it was one night
I slipped and fell
In a reservation gym,
Heard the hiss and laughter,
Felt the rush of fear...
Anger came.
Before my racist pride
Could grow,
I felt a hand,
Heard a voice,
"You okay?'
Spike Bighorn
Pulled me to my feet
Before a silent crowd.
A quiet act of bravery
That spoke aloud
Made me see the way
Through hate,
Set me on a path
To lead me forty years....
An act of kindness
In a place of fear
Defuses tension,
Ends the wars,
Shames the cowards,
Fills the void
With hope.
-------------------
Jul 7, 2014
Jul 7, 2014 at 1:14 PM UTC
beneath one effacing blush
simmers veil ties liquidly i stare
fears pink with praise lusts withheld thimble shames
embalm a gift identity
daily sunny graves
dissembled life
with deeper breath akin to fisher netting cast
fog caress mneumosyne lover's misty thigh
traps me willingly
blinded i taste ambrosia
gazing at between zones believing anything again
cliches pyroclastically reborn in celebrants of ash and cynic deaths
energetic swim i stroke a butterfly in Love
instant tribadists commit a joyous toast to joy itself
Oct 22, 2013
Oct 22, 2013 at 7:12 PM UTC
I am not yet defiled; O hear me.
Let not the crazed hornets or serpents or ophidian or the
buzzard bee come near me.
I am not yet defiled; console me.
I fear that the snake charmer may with rhythmic body clocks clock me,
with predatory hissing paralyze me, with authoritative power anger me,
on wicker constraints constrain me, in bamboo-patches pierce me.
I am not yet defiled; provide me
With beauty to free me, dressage to cover me, silence to come
to me, souls to save me, charmers and angels
in my wandering existence seeking fights to waver the war within me.
I am not yet defiled; forgive me
For the provocative glances in me, my presence when womanity holds me,
my mythological beauty by deities beyond me,
my head held high when they slay by means of my
crossbow, my addiction when they poison me.
I am not yet defiled; rehearse me
In the dreams and the prayers I must take when
art interrupts me, material disturbs me, splintered souls
gaze at me, smiles fade at me, the knifes edge
stains me and everlasting scars pain
me to shame and the shames taints
my skin and my heart abandons me.
I am not yet defiled; O hear me,
Let not Perseus who is warrior or who thinks he is King
or a rival to me.
I am not yet defiled; O fill me
With gasoline against those who would inhabit my
bones, would sink me into empty caverns,
would make me a prisoner locked, a monster with
blood dripping, a monster, and a passer of dis-ease
who would execute my self, would
flush me like ***** oozing and
***** and ooze and *****
like alcohol seeping in the
pores would drown me.
Let Poseidan not make me defiled and let him not **** me.
Otherwise **** me.
© Sia Jane
Nov 17, 2014
Nov 17, 2014 at 7:38 PM UTC
I am but a man
A single foe to me
Is the reason I harbour
With all certainty
I am but a man
Who is never too true
For in lies I believe
And envy the comfort they give to you
I am but a man
Who prays to god and devil alike
Who shames in all carnal desires
And prays with all his might
I am but a man
For a step or two
I believe I can write history
But I can't see it through
I am but a man
Who will never see the light
For peace is unforgiving
Come day or night
I am but a man
Who loves for reasons cruel
For the heart of a stranger
Is gold to this fool.
I see but now
The error of my ways
The dance of insanity
And time of the day
I say to you
Love me for what I am
Always just a man
Who lives and breathes.
Mar 23, 2013
Mar 23, 2013 at 10:44 AM UTC
This is no show
we can go slow
cuz I don't know
how to throw snow.
Everything is always on fire,
with crackling, roaring flames
burning shames, names, bridges
and everything the same...
*So far beyond an open book
just pages on the floor,
you can go ahead and look
if you know what you're searching for,
but there's a fine line between flowing and bleeding,
an even finer one between knowing and believing
and **** near none at all between showing and deceiving.*
It's more about what you're taking than what you're leaving,
what you're hearing than what you're seeing.
Peering through that looking glass
I can tell you can't see past
all the cracks, that's why you ask
where I got this mask.
*I made it myself; do you like it?
I can see it on your face you don't love it at all...
If you don't want to dance you can stand against the wall
and if you don't want to fall,
you can lay down and crawl.
Just keep moving through the crowd then,
but you can't stop my sound from pounding
your thoughts just as it stops;
I trace your face.*
And with nothing left to ask from you
I have one last task for you.
I made a mask for you
it's petite and small
but can cover it all,
so put it on my love.
Welcome to my Masquerade Ball
Sep 17, 2011
Sep 17, 2011 at 10:37 PM UTC
If it shames you,
If it shocks you,
If no one ever cared enough
To brave it through for you,
If that's not how it was done-
Then run.
Shirk responsibilities,
Hold on to old hostilities,
Ensure a future
For your daughter
Full of mistakes you've already made.
Do not grace her with faith,
Do not bestow your care upon her-
Let her think it was never there.
Cigarettes, alcohol,
Heartache, adolescence
Just ************ and
Regular flirtations and relationships-
Don't tell her to say no.
Just make sure she knows
They're unforgivable, all of them;
(Make sure she knows both shades that life can offer,
Raise her awareness of the wonderful choice
Between white and black.)
Fabricate the pretense that in this 21st century
She'll never come across them, not once.
Tell her that safe *** is not
Something she should know about
Because she will just not do it
Ever, period
And experimentation with substances and heck,
Even with people, are crimes
That only criminals commit.
And she will learn despite you.
And she will do things to spite you,
And one day, she'll grow old enough to hate you
And she won't care or feel the need
To explain her side of things
Because she will find happiness in her way
And she will have survived long enough
To have learned how to cut you from her heart.
And she won't even have to see you,
And the day will come
When you've become
Just a subject of her art.
Sep 23, 2014
Sep 23, 2014 at 1:37 PM UTC
it is easy to become lost in the blinding lights of new york city
and the deafening sound of yellow taxi cabs and screaming
neighbors and the chatter of mundane conversations between
people who are ghosts in every sense of the word with
their paper thin hearts and transparent minds and the inability
to feel something other than the heavy weight of coffee
in their stomachs
it is easy for people to say that when new york city was made
God himself struck down and said "let their be light" but all i ever
see is the blur of motion as everyone runs to jobs they
all hate working with people they despise and then spending
their money at stars that don't even shine in poorly lit movie
theaters when the real ones are in the sky and in new york
every expensive restaurant is vegan friendly and boasts animal
rights and shames everyone who doesn't but no one
ever wonders what happens to the ducks in central park during december
it is easy to fall in love with new york city.
with the magic that it spreads with the euphoria that you feel being
surrounded by others with it's almost frightening ability to
take away your loneliness and manipulate you into thinking you
are happy, it is easy to fall in love with new york city.
it is also easy for you to say that you lost yourself in new york
because even when you say it no one will hear you
over the sound of madison square garden and it is easy to
call new york paradise it is easy to call it the city that never
sleeps because everyone stuck there is paralyzed
(h.l.)
Nov 3, 2015
Nov 3, 2015 at 2:06 PM UTC
Behind every beauty, lies another beauty-
A beauty that speaks louder and paints
The true colours of the beauty behind.
Behind that beauty, is a slippery world of walls
Where all men must endeavour to climb
In order to win the banner of trust
And to achieve the trophy of love.
Behind that beauty is sadness lurking
Just behind those extraordinary eyes.
Behind that beauty is a tale to tell.
A roller coaster ride
That speaks Of Love, loss, pain, gain
Heartbreaks and Victories.
Behind that beauty lies humility
Formed by numerous experiences.
A door leading to a bit of ugliness inside in disguise.
A past full of histories of negativity, ills and wrongs
And once there dwelt insecurity and vanity
In an age of immaturity.
Despite these poisons,
Failure failed to corrupt that beauty
Or crush the human decency behind that beauty
Behind that alluring smile lies
An enticing heart,
It’s a paradise of scam, a world full of shames
That aims at nothing tangible-yet stakes a claim to fame
Expecting bows before a throne of jealousy.
A beautiful foundation that once
Held an unstable core of emotions
That ran deep with contempt and scorn
For those who tried to guess at what lay beneath,
Holding secret desires that beauty within,
Played hide and seek…
It seems there's so much beauty
That lies behind that beauty..
~ O My Sky ~
Sep 1, 2017
Sep 1, 2017 at 8:43 PM UTC