Below the Surface

Beauty is in the eye of the beholder,

At least that’s what I’ve heard.

But is it really in the eye of the beholder?

For when we talk about beauty,

Isn’t it the outer appearance that we speak of?

That’s shallower than the morning

Tide of the ocean.

What about under the make up

She has caked on her face?

Under the bundles of weave that weigh

Her head down as if many burdens

Were placed upon it?

What about under the clothes that she

Wears to impress men who don’t notice her,

And women she can’t stand?

What about beneath the skin,

The blood that flows through her veins?

What about underneath her scalp,

The brain that has worked overtime

Through two degrees and a master’s?

What about behind those eyes that have

Seen such dark things that light

may never shine through them again?

What about under her large breasts,

A heart that has been broken many times?

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