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a piece on beauty and that every woman has it


Writing_freelance_online_content_dayton_cincinnati_columbus_centervilleby Tim Campbell03 Dec 2013

A girl stood over stories and stories
Touching the clouds and feet hung on the precipice of a sorry action
She closed her eyes to all the ones who declared on to her the ugliness of hate
In slow motion their mouths spit and spat with the utterances of their words like daggers to the heart
Younger her mother was when her loathing of reproduction began and it was not known to the little girl now grown hanging a life in the balance
A time when her mother was the desire of carnal satisfaction of all she adored
In her foolish youth glitter and gold and back to this wrong step she may take another flashback of hate
In which friends befriended betrayed and frayed her soul in pieces for which to start the fire engulfing her in tears and sadness sorrow and pain
A monstrous bunch they were fed on self loathing and hate filling their bellies full
I only tell this from a view held in my eyes
I called to her and leaned in to whisper
Her beauty unmatched by theirs and ever bright
A reply of refutation laid a fate almost assured in her doubt
I countered that superficial coverings had no measure for the beauty she possessed
In her angelic shadow they stood in awe
She stepped to an early embrace and cheers from down below a crowd she could not see
Nor I
In her walk down
Was I there?
The voice she heard her own or something else?