Perfecting lies,
The truth we fudge.
We judge on looks;
We love to judge --
Deciding fast
We then don't budge.
But truly, persons,
People are:
The body just
A mason jar,
A file cabinet,
Railroad car,
Containing all
That matters most:
The beauty that's
Within the ghost
Uniquely placed
In just one host.
So look at each
Within their booth
And know: real beauty
Is in truth.
= = = = =
"Who says that fictions only and false hair
Become a verse? Is there in truth no beauty?"
-- George Herbert, "Jordan (I)"
= = = = =
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Tagged: Tags Poetry
Published by Beleaguered Servant
Owen "Beleaguered" Servant (a/k/a Sibelius Russell) writes poetry mostly, with an occasional pause to have a seizure.
View all posts by Beleaguered Servant
Very nice