If I had to impart one lesson to my younger self, I would tell him that beauty really is skin deep. Physical beauty is like a shiny coin. We are attracted to it, and, if we lack judgment and experience, we grab at it without looking deeper. Real beauty, in men and women, is in the character, and is exemplified by traits like loyalty, sacrifice, heart, caring, and other selfless, outward facing acts. Beware the selfish other. They are traps for the unwary. I learned this lesson the hard way. You can take the wiser path.
She challenged him.
“Write a poem about me”,
He voice was a demand,
and insistent,
like the shrill cry of the seagulls
gliding over the lake,
looking for a meal.
She kept at him,
and wanted to direct his words,
in a commander’s bark
that would not take no for an answer.
“Tell the world that I am beautiful”,
she said.
“I want the world to sing songs about my beauty,
after I am gone”.
He sat at the computer,
so that she would think
he was writing,
and thought about what to say.
She was beautiful,
in her way.
Her physical beauty
was a gift from the gods.
She knew that she was beautiful,
however,
and permitted no dissent.
She did little else,
but preen
and apply her makeup
in strange places.
What could he write
about her beauty?
Suddenly, the words flowed
from his fingertips.
“Her beauty is a sight to behold”,
he wrote.
“It is only exceeded by the ugliness
of her soul”.
He gave the tiny poem to her,
and she was silent,
for the first time.
“Truth is beautiful,
even when it ends relationships”,
he said,
as he opened the door
and went out to write poems
for someone who didn’t need
to hear how beautiful she was. 