beuty is in the eye of the beholder...

She was not beautiful.
Nothing about her was extraordinary.
Nothing about her made her stand out in a crowd.
She grew up in a family of six.
The eldest, she learnt responsibility at an early age.
As she grew stronger, and brighter,
She instilled a sort of light cheer to whomever she met.

She was not beautiful.
But she made others feel beautiful about themselves.
She meets a rebel boy who thinks he's all man.
Befriending him, she teaches him how to read,
A little boost the man needed to go to college.

They became friends fast and she fell,
Fast in love with her rugged, handsome student.
The "man" then finds himself in a dilemma
He soon found himself in love with a girl.
A girl so beautiful, she turned even the grouchiest men's head.
Her hair was a halo of light around her,
Her eyes the bluest blue of ocean.

Like an angel he tells his tutor
Like a beautiful angel.
The girl swallows a lump at her throat

She was not beautiful
She did not possess the heart of the one she loved
But she did not care.
As long as he was happy,
She would be or so she tried to.

She helped him write the most beautiful letter to his angel
All the time envisioning that it was she herself
Receiving those very letters.
And so the girl helped him choose the right words,
Buy the right gifts for his angel
His angel brought him much joy
And much pain to the girl who cried behind her smiles.
But that never stopped her from giving more
Than she will ever receive.

Then one day, all hell broke loose
The angel he loved left him for another man,
A richer, more successful man.
The boy was stunned
He was so hurt he did not speak for days
The girl went to him
He cried on her shoulder and she cried with him
He hurt and so did she.

Time went by.
And so the wounds heal.
The boy realizes something about his friend/tutor
He never realized before.
How her laughter sounded heavenly
Or how her smiles brightened up the darkest days.
Or simply how beautiful, yes beautiful she looked to him!

Beautiful.
This plain, simple girl was beautiful to him.
And he began to fall.
Fall so in love with this beautiful girl.

On one day, he picked up all his courage to see her.
He walked to her house, nervous ad fidgeting.
Running his thoughts over and over in his head.
He was going to tell her how beautiful she was to him.
He was going to tell her how wonderfully in love he was with her.
He knocked.
No one was home.

The next day he found out,
The beautiful girl he fell in love with had brain aneurysm
That put her into a coma.
The doctors were grim and the family decided to let her go.

One final time he got to see her.
He held her hand.
He stroked her hair,
And he cried for this beautiful girl.
He cried for he will never see her smile
Or hear her speak his name

He cried.
But it was too late.

The beautiful girl was buried and the heavens broke out
In a beautiful spring shower, a cry for their loss.
She was the most beautiful girl in the world.

Look around you.
Aren't there a lot of plain faces?
Take a good look
A real good look or you might miss out
On that beautiful person Forever...

A Prayer in Darkness

This much, O heaven—if I should brood or rave,
Pity me not; but let the world be fed,
Yea, in my madness if I strike me dead,
Heed you the grass that grows upon my grave.

If I dare snarl between this sun and sod,
Whimper and clamour, give me grace to own,
In sun and rain and fruit in season shown,
The shining silence of the scorn of God.

Thank God the stars are set beyond my power,
If I must travail in a night of wrath,
Thank God my tears will never vex a moth,
Nor any curse of mine cut down a flower.

Men say the sun was darkened: yet I had
Thought it beat brightly, even on—Calvary:
And He that hung upon the Torturing Tree
Heard all the crickets singing, and was glad. by G. K. Chesterton

Perfspot.com - m@rianne ๑۩ bl@ck♔soul ۩๑ - Profile

Perfspot.com - m@rianne ๑۩ bl@ck♔soul ۩๑ - Profile

Wiz Khalifa - Roll Up [Official Music Video]

Ñejo & Dalmata - Automovil ►NEW ® 2011◄ Prod. Pipe Florez y Haze

" Dream as if you'll live for ever...live as if you;ll die today..."

"I would rather be ashes than dust! I would rather that my spark should burn out in a brilliant blaze than it should be stifled by dry rot. I would rather be a superb meteor, every atom of me in magnificent glow, than a sleepy and permanent planet. The proper function of man is to live, not to exist. I shall not waste my days in trying to prolong them. I shall use my time."

Mcacavity _ the mystery cat...bt ts eliot

• Macavity's a Mystery Cat: he's called the Hidden Paw--
  For he's the master criminal who can defy the Law.
  He's the bafflement of Scotland Yard, the Flying Squad's despair:
  For when they reach the scene of crime--Macavity's not there!
  
  Macavity, Macavity, there's no on like Macavity,
  He's broken every human law, he breaks the law of gravity.
  His powers of levitation would make a fakir stare,
  And when you reach the scene of crime--Macavity's not there!
  You may seek him in the basement, you may look up in the air--
  But I tell you once and once again, Macavity's not there!
  
  Macavity's a ginger cat, he's very tall and thin;
  You would know him if you saw him, for his eyes are sunken in.
  His brow is deeply lined with thought, his head is highly doomed;
  His coat is dusty from neglect, his whiskers are uncombed.
  He sways his head from side to side, with movements like a snake;
  And when you think he's half asleep, he's always wide awake.
  
  Macavity, Macavity, there's no one like Macavity,
  For he's a fiend in feline shape, a monster of depravity.
  You may meet him in a by-street, you may see him in the square--
  But when a crime's discovered, then Macavity's not there!
  
  He's outwardly respectable. (They say he cheats at cards.)
  And his footprints are not found in any file of Scotland Yard's.
  And when the larder's looted, or the jewel-case is rifled,
  Or when the milk is missing, or another Peke's been stifled,
  Or the greenhouse glass is broken, and the trellis past repair--
  Ay, there's the wonder of the thing! Macavity's not there!
  
  And when the Foreign Office finds a Treaty's gone astray,
  Or the Admiralty lose some plans and drawings by the way,
  There may be a scap of paper in the hall or on the stair--
  But it's useless of investigate--Macavity's not there!
  And when the loss has been disclosed, the Secret Service say:
  "It must have been Macavity!"--but he's a mile away.
  You'll be sure to find him resting, or a-licking of his thumbs,
  Or engaged in doing complicated long division sums.
  
  Macavity, Macavity, there's no one like Macacity,
  There never was a Cat of such deceitfulness and suavity.
  He always has an alibit, or one or two to spare:
  And whatever time the deed took place--MACAVITY WASN'T THERE!
  And they say that all the Cats whose wicked deeds are widely known
  (I might mention Mungojerrie, I might mention Griddlebone)
  Are nothing more than agents for the Cat who all the time
  Just controls their operations: the Napoleon of Crime!