Beauty Never Did a Thing For Me
This love is paper-thin.
I’m back again, sufferin’
For paper love so thin.
Crumple it on a fixed day,
Then set it out in the sun again.
The sun that shines on everything,
The big, the small,
The pathetic and the profound.
I’ll climb your summer dress again
And call out your name
as if it were a revelation.
Pass your netted fabric,
Then clinging on
to your streaming hair.
I’ll keep climbing till,
like on a mountain
I could say I was there.
And on that mountain,
You’d catch me singing to a situation
That was never there,
Singing
Beauty never did a thing for me.
Beauty never did a thing for me.
This year, I started to write poetry. It all happened rather naturally on a bus journey home thinking about well...girls... and well... rejection. I only have the courage to show these thanks to the encouragement of my family and to my fellow teachers in the english department. Thank you guys! Some of these poems will be turned into comics, for instance this one was written with comics in mind. But I thought it would be a good thing to show them bare first before the images add an extra layer of meaning.
- Fatcrumb
