Beautiful

He’s beautiful and he knows it

He doesn’t need a poem about his beauty.

He asks for no compliments but only this

Realization

That he knows who he is.

 

He prays nightly for some recognition

His beauty won’t last forever, he thinks.

And I lay by his side, staring at his long,

Dark eyelashes. His lids shudder with his dreams

I can only imagine the beauty he dreams of

The beauty I wish I had.

 

He’s beautiful and he knows it won’t last forever

But he doesn’t know, that my love will last longer

Than his beautiful dark brown hair.

My love, beautiful in itself, adorns him in the most

Beautiful way.

 

He’s beautiful and he knows it will fade

So he knows not to fall for the beautiful, fair things

The things that rot with time.

 

Instead he lays beside me night after night

As though the beauty of my love masks all of the

Ugly of myself.

Author's Note

it's just a fleetng thought....

Reviews

[Deborah Leah Krempa]

He may be beautiful but so are you. A wonderful poem. Thank you for sharing. Debileah