Dazibella Dunham Poems

I can feel the rain on my face.
I can feel warth running down my cheeks.
Drops mixing with drops.
Both natural.
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When it has you,
Nothing is real
And reality is too much to face.
Everything becomes a struggle
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Sitting by an ancient tree
Covered in hanging moss
Someone spoke to me
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Given to earth from a mystery - Outside sculpted from harsh looks and smooth smiles; Inside coated with light-hearted comedy and deeper in is gentle self concious beauty that lines up hearts for miles.
Secrets in the oval openings to the soal, no lies slipping from the maker of kisses that become touches that become vows.
Crazed and troublesome mind creates beautiful connections leaving onlookers to ponder the origin.
So gorgeous are the fingers of life druc across admiring skin when said creator of kisses and vows explodes into laughing beauty.
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How beautiful can something be when flawed?
They say flaws make something more beautiful.
But how flawed is too flawed to be beautiful?
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