The Pariahs

She was a pariah-

A weed in a field of lilies, 

A lone star in a starless sky, 

A soft whisper in a screaming crowd, 

And the instrumental to every song. 

She was as insignificant as a granite, 

Laid beside a pile of glittering diamonds-

Yet granite was his favorite rock.

To him, whose presence to her not meant-

She may be a pariah,

But she was his pariah. 

Reviews

[Francis Orion]

Beauty is truly in the eye of beholder. This is a lovely poem that illustrates this. Well done.

[Carissa Marie]

Thank you. :)

[Francis Orion]

You're Welcome!

[alifeacoustic]

Beautifully captured essence of what true beauty is. Beauty is not popular, or having the right connections. beauty is seeing what others fail to notice. Even weeds flower. Very well written Carissa. Thank you for sharing this.

[Carissa Marie]

Thank you for reading. :)

[alifeacoustic]

Welcome :-0