Poem – Thing of Beauty

Thing of Beauty.

Object of Affection.

Gazed upon,

By droves of eyes

That break the skin.

Eyes that pull and tug and poke,

Until what’s left is twisted and misshaped.

Chewed up. Spit out. Left for scraps.

And they say,

What a Thing of Beauty, back in the day.

© Shyla Fairfax-Owen