Lies of beauty
Red lips, painted in
blood.
They speak words,
But not truth.
They say her eyes
shine like diamonds.
But they can’t see
the ice frozen within.
The pain sealed
inside her,
trapped under an icy
lid.
When her eyes open,
Everything is dark.
The beauty they speak
of,
Is like a knife wound
in her heart.
Her skin,
Is as smooth as the
velvet of a blooming rose.
But to the touch,
It is as cold as
death.
She garbs herself in
color,
To keep what is under,
Hidden within.
To hide that burning
ache,
From prying eyes that
would expose her.
The word beauty,
Only has one meaning.
To hide her from the
fools,
Who won’t look past
her image.
Who won’t look past
her soft smile,
And kind words spoken
with tender care.
Who won’t look past
the blond curls,
That adorns her head.
She is hidden.
Under the lies.
Under the beauty,
That is her disguise.
-Written By: Lyndsey Evenstar
Translation of poem.
The poem talks about a
beautiful woman who hides a secret. To the world, she is perfect... She is beautiful,
wealthy, smart, and even cunning. How cunning?... They do not know half of it…
The woman has killed a
man, and yet no one realizes or accepts this because of her beauty and gender.
The first line tells about how her lips are the ones that killed the man in
question, and how they weave clever lies that people take to be the truth. Not
because she is innocent, but because people take her act and lies instead of
searching deeper to find the truth.
Red lips, painted in
blood.
They speak words,
But not truth.
These next few stanzas go
even deeper. Instead of just showing you her true colors, it’s letting you know
how she really feels inside. She is in pain… The wrong she has done tortures
her day and night, and she views her life in black and white. Not color. All
she can see is the man she killed in her mind, everywhere she goes she is a
reminder of him. When they talk of her beauty, she can only think of its true
purpose, and that is to hide her from their prying eyes. It does not give her
any pleasure.
They say her eyes
shine like diamonds.
But they can’t see
the ice frozen within.
The pain sealed
inside her,
trapped under an icy
lid.
When her eyes open,
Everything is dark.
The beauty they speak
of,
Is like a knife wound
in her heart.
Her skin,
Is as smooth as the
velvet of a blooming rose.
But to the touch,
It is as cold as
death.
She garbs herself in
color,
To keep what is
under,
Hidden within.
To hide that burning
ache,
From prying eyes that
would expose her.
The word beauty,
Only has one meaning.
To hide her from the
fools,
Who won’t look past
her image.
Who won’t look past
her soft smile,
And kind words spoken
with tender care.
Who won’t look past
the blond curls,
That adorns her head.
This sums of the poem,
stating how her beauty is what hides her. No one will ever know, and she will
never admit to what she has done. The moral of this was to try and capture the
idea that you cant judge everyone on their appearance. People have secrets; they
have wounds. Just because you cannot see them doesn’t mean they aren’t there.
She is hidden.
Under the lies.
Under the beauty,
That is her disguise.
-Written By: Lyndsey Evenstar
