A tricky flow poem about the crux of being beautiful. |
-Beautiful- by Keaton Foster Beautiful An image An ideal A picture Appeal So surreal What a feeling I wish I knew it But I don’t I am only a Conscientious observer Well aware But unwilling To get considerably involved Poetically is all that I will share Beautiful starts somewhere Along the way Always taking shape Luck of the draw Such a perfect gaze The ultimate fate Blessed Far more than most But under skin Exactly the same Shallowness invades Beautiful Perfect hair Flawless face Nothing set to waste Believed to be Created by a master As long as genetics Is abundantly disregarded The most superior beings Only attracted to others Of such absolute perfection Standing around Always waiting Unwilling to settle Impossible vessels Looking for a better deal Waiting for a white night Riding upon a mythical beast That only they can believe Until one day Far past expected Far past reasonable conditions They find themselves all alone With no home With no truer love owned Only them and their empty ideals They held strong Committed to such ridiculousness Beautiful Not something wished Flawless, who needs it Ugly is where it’s at Finding happiness Within imperfection Understanding that we Are all grossly flawed Made in the image of a Pseudo masochistic creator With a propensity to be lazy We are just bits and pieces Crudely jammed together Rushed into production Copies of copies Then copies of those copies Each one equally more Screwed up then the last Beautiful Clearly overrated Maybe even a bit playacted Consecration easily leading To absolute ostracization Different pigments Opposite figments Crooked spines Cataclysmic minds People being people Finding a way To find a way Love and understanding Within our shortcomings Take it from an ugly S.O.B Now that is beautiful… Beautiful Written by Keaton Foster Copyright © 2013 |