He was ugly. Have you ever looked
Into the heart of a dirty dustbin?
He was uglier than that.
Children quailed beneath his smile
Until he won the lottery.
He bought a new Mercedes.
a new mansion.
a new anorak.
but remained ugly.
He visited the plastic surgeon.
New nose. New chin. New everything.
He was gorgeous as he ventured out;
He stepped onto the street
his flowing hair framing his
now-handsome profile.
A huge lorry restored him to a
semblance of normality.
He was ugly again.
Dead ugly.
In Heaven,
he confronted God
'Why Lord? Why?
You gave me a fortune.
You gave me a new car.
You gave me a new house.
(Not to mention the anorak)
Why did you kill me? '
The Lord looked down
upon his crestfallen servant.
'Sorry son']
He said
'I didn’t recognise you'
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Ha - but maybe he was beautiful inside, after all, beauty is only skin deep as they say!