The Beauty Within

I’d rather write poetry about a hobo
Or a hooker than
About flowers on an autumn day
Because people with all their flaws
Are the most beautiful thing
I know of

The sight of a sunrise
Or a pond on a summer day
Does not connect with me
As deeply as
The kiss of a pimply, plump beauty
The kindness of a compassionate nurse
The skill of an adroit plumber
Or the wisdom of an old man

I find more beauty in
The bonds we share
And the struggles we endure
Than “What is pleasing to the eye”
And poetry is a way of
Unlocking a door into
The human soul and
Capturing the beauty
In each of us

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