Mr. Africa Poetry Lounge!

"Crowned Beauty"

Diamonds sparkled once upon a time when they were hidden up under the dirt and he took
his scaffold and brushed the dirt from it's {her} face….
The sun beamed and the world called it beauty an added on rare.
Its beauty was rare.
You said her beauty was rare.
But I loved you!
And articles could not column up enough detail because her beauty was definite in
structure's detail an even dimension could not proportion enough collision to form the
structure of such a figure's (constriction)…
And I cried that day.
I let streams flow into current and grow into salt's ocean.
And I swam in it. And I treaded in it's season{ings}.
Because you called her beauty…rare. And I cried.
I'm crying because her beauty was in perfect sight of your view.
Sparkling with every glitters sight that light repealed in twilights darkness.
When light allowed glow; I mean her to shine through.
Said that kind of beauty was rare.
And I never understood how such beauty was rare if everyone knew about it.
And I began to get wet.
Because the clouds got moist and I looked up to the sky
Pulled my hair and screamed.
The cluster of clouds couldn't take it! And I gave them the q to let it pour.
My heart….was aching and sore.
Because I remember when she was beauty and I was sporadic.
But America called it rare because no other definition was soot to dress up my character. So
I strip down, butt naked streaming and all I wanted you to do is strip me of my beauties
imperfections so that your sight would be distracted.
Cancel out my physical features, cut my throat and let me bleed red of the world's
contaminations so that every blood cell would serve as everything I inhaled through every
opening on my body allowing it to crystallized and take away my sanity just so that I could
have beauty….
Remove it!
An ignore the fact that I'm crying. Cause these aren't tears. These are seasonings of streams
that I used to season up {despite of your mockery} of love so that you wouldn't get such, but
the variety of passion. Because I didn't have to physically make love to you in order for us
to make love. So I cry you, flow you, and pee you out of my system because beauty doesn't
have a rare place with me.
Because they wouldn't be able to align on the same plane.
So you can have your diamond cause glitter will forever sparkle.
It can never be…
Cause everybody knows.
So I'll be the dirt in which the diamond was concealed, because event eh texture of the
Earth can seclude the most beautiful things. And science questions what matter of soil it
was that reprints condition and the diamond was fused together by all the elements
of…Earth. And yet its state will still be rare.
The diamond was pushed out of the core of mother Earth like after birth and it was within
our oven's that we complied error; because beauty was seen by everybody. So she could be
that because rare is the inside shaping of such a structure that could never be contaminated
by the windows of life because they never opened.
Was seen by everyone who never seemed to stop looking. You don't have to look at me
cause rare is a suit that even definitions couldn't dress.

Written by Anice Enkrein


Mr. Africa Poetry Lounge