• Whatever beauty I may possess
    Is superfluous.

    Wasted...
    Like the fruits of an unpicked tree.

    Untouched, though beautiful...
    Deep colors of ripeness beckon one
    To the sweetness within.
    A sweetness that would tantalize
    Ones taste buds.

    Yet unwanted, avoided,
    As if poisoned.

    'Til one day, it withers
    Falling to the cold, hard earth
    Decaying from the inside out.

    For the rejected
    Beauty is only futile.