Perceptions

She is the Earth

Her hair flows like a river
It is obsidian night
Eyes made of copper
With a grin just as bright

She is the tallest mountain here
She’s breathtaking and fierce
Her face, soft as snow
There’s nothing to fear

Her skin glows like magma
It shines brighter in the sun
Her being is so beautiful
What more could she become?

A sight for sore eyes
I can’t ask for more
For she is the Earth

But is there more?

As the Earth turns slowly
Her facade changes too

She is still the Earth

But

Her hair is now smog
Its tangled like seaweed
Her eyes are made of mud
And her teeth are a crowded forest

She’s weak and frail like grains of hot sand
All clumped up together to form an abomination
It’s beautiful, yet could break so easily

She has dead leaves for skin
People like to step on her
And hear the crunch beneath their feet

Her body aches
As this poem continues
The words run deep in her core
Stares sink deep in her flesh

What do you think?

Do you think she’s still beautiful?