PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

there is beauty in broken things,

an anguished heart,

the liberty bell,

a shattered window pane.

but what of the listless?

what of the mundane?

an empty bucket,

a concrete floor,

a dreary, frozen rain?

what about the homely,

or the hideously deformed,

is there beauty found there too?

comeliness in cancer?

loveliness in the flu?

what about a pus filled zit,

or corn kernels embedded

in a pile of shit?

could bileous vomit,

spewn in anxiety,

ever be called poignant?

no less "ever so lovely!"

i suppose not, though

hope so.

i have been merciless,

vulgar, impatient, vain;

i have been a bastard

self-piteously in pain.

i have played the villian

in another's anguished brain;

i have mocked the awkward,

self-conscious and deranged.

i have been the sinner

casting vengeant stones;

i have been the outcast,

cold and trembling all alone...

i hope, i pray,

somehow, some way,

to take my vile ashes,

and make them beautiful someday.