she’s beautiful. but her eyes don’t convey that to her mind
when she gazes in abhorrence at her reflection. those
deceiving eyes insist that her face is scarred, when in fact
her skin is smooth as an unblemished pearl.
 
she once journeyed, joyful as an angel, thru the pages of the
Holy Bible. but fate scorned her innocence, & invited her, with
candy whispers, to stray. besieged & beguiled, her faith is in her
chains, as she believes that freedom is a hollow thing, vaporous
as the wind, void manifestation of reckless dreamers.
 
if I could, I would invade her dismal hideaway. I would crush those
walls with my fists, & take her by force from her heart’s prison,
into heaven’s light. and if this world judges her, & proclaims that
she is not beautiful, then there is no beauty on this planet, nor in
this universe.
 
but who am I to don the banner of false hero? I have walked hard
miles, thru days of war, & years of failure. I’ve eaten scraps from
bins that the rats overlooked. I’ve slept where I fell. I’m beaten &
I’m bruised. and I’m ugly,
 
but then, you like ugly men;
and even if you don’t…
 
…you like me.
 
perhaps the shadows are the only viable sanctuary for tramps like
us. we who are too hideous to recognize our own beauty…