Tax the P(r)etty

Don't doubt doubtless debates,

But be a sceptic of course.

Perched upon your pedestal,

Skin flaking and teeth teething,

Rough sounds simple, as you clear you throat and stand,

"Beauty!" you cry, "is in all of us",

I would disagree with myself as the source,

Sitting, my thought trail would course,

Down; up; stationary perhaps,

The perfect probationary creed.

Physically, maybe.

But mind, maybe not.

A narrow mind is an ugly one,

To say I don't have one is vain and hypocritical.

So tell me about beauty,

When disagreement meets your ears,

And your response matches your duty,

Upset, moans and cheers.