Gods Cruel Poem by Tshawn Tshering

she sits majestically like the butterfly on a rose
her rosy lips perched up
and her crimson cheek
radiating the rays of true beauty.
her hands clasped
over her knees
and her gaze over her feet.
she is like the Loenardo Davinci's portrait
perfect from all sides.
she would be the first creation
like the first poem ever written.
But a man took
her by the hand
she walked clumsily
little did i know that
she was blind.
my heart ached
for she cannot
acknowledge her on beauty.
Gods cruel.......
whats the use of beauty
if one cannot appreciate it
and take pride in it...
gods cruel....
does she know what colour is the sky
the ocean, the clouds,
does she even have the concept
of the colours
still live must go on
with no colours
accept the cruelty of god
and move on.