Beautiful people aren't created.
They are drawn like a line over a page.
No color, but just a monochrome, and
they appear as a complete book
of masterpieces.
Beautiful people aren't created.
They are settled like dew on withered leaves.
No grief, but just the precipitation of emotions on the lashes.
And they appear as an album of masterpieces.
Beautiful people aren't created.
They are met like the person in the mirror.
No talk, yet chaos of bewildering webs
of neurons transmitting the current of
numerous hills built overhead.
And they appear as light from the Galaxy of masterpieces.
Beautiful people aren't created.
They are drawn out like the hair.
No pain, yet the sorrow of falling apart.
And they appear as the unique force
sticking to the comb of masterpieces.
©Ashu.
YOU ARE READING
My poetry collection.
PoetryWelcome, everybody! I'm new here. Thus, I'm trying to start writing from small to achieve big one day. So, here I begin with some poetic spices for you to enjoy its taste. This is a collection of poems on various topics. Choose to read one that yo...
