Handsome words
Dipped in vases
Until they don nicely
As bouquet and fountain
Lovely and sensible
Like a proper lady
Button lipped
Perfectly poised
Elegant in aesthetic
Drawing accolades
Like ribbon into bow
Wooing sojourning eyes
As beacon and lamppost
Come spy beauty here
In the mist and midst
Of weary and wear
A table set with chivalry
Pushing in the chair
Tucking back stray strands
Pecking cheeks fairly
It is all so enchanting
Unsightly words
Choked carelessly
By cuff and clout
No comeliness or bother
Taking by the scruff
Dragging off underfoot
Aimless and hellbent
Guiding only its folly
Into misguided fester
A funeral procession
Of misery and company
Untuned keys and strings
Bursting eardrums
Breaking the vase
As a dashing scepter
Overturned tables
Chair smashed overhead
On matted hair
Busted lips
A slap to the cheek
It is all so grotesque
Handsome but unsightly
Enchanting but grotesque
Dark but lovely
Pain picking off
Mercy bearing up
Words sitting pretty
Words hurling ugly
Hatred unearthing
Love covering
Like gash and bandage
Like nakedness and robe
Like casket and rose
Ain’t it the truth? Oh, the paradox. I relate.
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