In Vain and Vanity

Her true true self is like a flash of prismatic light –
On the edge of glassed minds, illuminating.
Yet she remains invisible, even when bared to naked eyes.
Tired, she folds her faded reality neatly into a corner,
watches the surreal become solid way of life.
Time and time again
They prove that people like her are in vain.
She resigns, surrenders her essence to the dust.
A joyless peace consumes her,
She understands, now, why she was demeaned.
True beauty is external for external beauty is rewarded and seen,
A vanity that is never in vain.

Abstracted

You love classic literature and paintings,
Cultivated as the wine you sip.
Your friends’ mouths are overflowing,
cups with words,
drip,
drip,
And I am amateur art in the corner
Undervalued. Seemingly simplistic.
Forever misunderstood.