She loves the silver moon at night,
But not the breeze of the somber fog.
The sand in her white feet obliged;
Unlike the every wishes for unfading hug.
She adores the flowers in her long skirt,
But not the way people look at her wholeness.
She paints art with a messy bun in head,
Yet she can't see the masterpiece across her face.
She loves the salty wind of bay,
But not the harsh breeze that carries away her waves.
She sees the ocean as a calming blue jay,
Yet she's blinded by her awaken rave.
She's thankful for her creamy skin,
But not for her lifetime scars.
She never let anyone touch nor wink,
At the freckles she conceals and hides.
The world she has is never been better,
If it wasn't because of her passion.
She loves the window, the lampshade, and the seashore,
But never the mainstream outside her home.
The bricks she built for her are awesome,
Like it's the last thing she wanted to sag.
The smile she has and seen by no one,
Makes her silently beautiful without a props.
VOUS LISEZ
Just POETIQUÉ
PoésieWere you lonely? Were you sad? Has everything been bad lately? Unlike the beautiful times you've had. Smile with me. Cry with me. Get mad with this soul. Maybe we'll find a way out of the cold. -JAM MARIANO
