Beauty
Beauty with you I cry,
with you I am not afraid to live or die.
I don’t resent your mystery,
you are so perfect to me.
But the Creator pisses me off,
makes me want to scream,
“Come out come out wherever you are.”
Blind faith… for Christ sake, I want to see.
Braille in spirit gets tiresome.
Go away you Big Bully
let me lay my head down
in the lap of Beauty.
Whatever you do don’t bother me
until you want to show me your face.
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