Beauty Poem by R.P. Coursey
Beauty
She's in the
flourescent bathroom,
dabbing on fake skin
a little darker than
her own.
Outlining her hazel
eyes
Cleopatra-like,
Pouting and plastering
a potion
from a silver tube
on her lips.
She looks down at me
looking up at her and
smiles.
I wonder how
I will ever learn
to be beautiful.
beauty evolves from the inner heart to the eyes of the beholder.good poem
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/26/2024 10:08:59 AM # 1.0.0.1119
A true reading pleasure, Thank you for sharing, R.P.