Beauty and Injustice

growing up is hard to do with the weight of the world surrounding you

Ruby red lips torn apart by hatred and lust,

Skin white as snow, tainted with the poisons of the world.

Is there no one to hear her cries?

She is in anguish.

I can see her sitting in the corner

Broken down by tears-

It’s reflected in her eyes.

She would never let the world in

To see her pain.

Such beauty, disheveled by the world.

Such innocence, polluted by humanity.

She wants salvation-

To be free-

Though she’s too proud to ask.

She holds her head high,

Displaying shadows of a broken past.

Twisted shadows follow her

Down the long, forsaken hall.

What a sweet, loving child

Taught to fear everything around her.

Beauty grows up in the bleak city

The laughter that once rolled from her lips

Has fled and flown away.

A dead father.

A drunken mother.

Where to turn?

Beauty walks down the decaying streets of the city

Lighting up the store windows along the way,

While the city contaminates her heart

With lies and cheap liquor.

Reviews

[Cicera]

Well, it is certainly not a beautiful world. A world that does not have eyes to see beauty, would not let beauty show itself. So in defiance we sometimes have to define that beauty by ourselves instead of waiting for the world to recover from its decayedness. Strange is that the very same bosom that gave us life wants now to denounce us. Beauty will save the world where beauty is denied! I think there lies the combination of hope-which is beauty-and injustice.

I think: Injustice is the enemy. There is nothing wrong in fighting it.

The subject here revolves around a state of depression, deep because hope though has given a promise seems very far away from keeping its word.

Decadence, loneliness and hardship--sometimes there is nothing more poetical than the normal unelaborated rhythm of life, even though this would lack the salt that bleak and cruel reality never needs to be.