Eye of the Beholder

“Your beauty lies in my eye,”
I wish I could have told her,
“The eye of the beholder.”

“Your long brown hair,
A symbol of despair,
Is damaged like your ego,
You’re hurt beyond repair;”

“Your ugly round face,
A symbol of disgrace,
I don’t intend to hurt it,
Its just a coup de grace;”

“Your rough bare feet,
A symbol of defeat,
A novel of escape,
A story of retreat;”

“Your huge brown breast,
A symbol of unrest,
I wish to see it naked!”
I know she could protest;

“Do hide it from the spy,”
I wish I could have told her,
“The eye of the beholder.”

“Your big brown eyes,
A symbol of the lies,
The random allegations,
The frightened alibis;”

“Your burnt dark skin,
A symbol of the sin,
The sin that you inspire,
Like porn and bathtub gin;”

“Your pierced ringed ear,
A symbol of your fear,
Of hunger death and drought,
Of Northwest Frontier;”

“Your quiet dry lips,
A symbol of eclipse!”
I think if I could kiss them,
They’d taste like chocolate chips;

“They’re tempting to – I cant deny -”
I wish I could have told her,
“The Eye of the Beholder.”