Author: Mark Spencer
She was a beautiful girl,
Who dreamed of a beautiful life.
She had her choice of suitors,
To make her his beautiful wife.
She’d date the best looking boys,
The most popular in her school,
And all the girls envied her,
Though she was vain, and sometimes cruel.
Then she went off to college,
Surviving nicely on her looks.
The crowd she hung around with,
Were not disposed to reading books.
She lived the party lifestyle,
And dated all the handsome guys.
Because she was beautiful,
She felt like a coveted prize.
She finally met Prince Charming,
And he was a Senator’s son.
He was rich and powerful,
And she believed he was the one.
But he used her like the rest,
And in the end, tossed her aside.
He said there was another,
Who had been chosen for his bride.
Then she met a quarterback,
And they were married for ten years.
Years of infidelity,
Through which, she cried a sea of tears.
And so she finally left him,
And met a handsome tennis pro.
But she was just a trophy,
He only kept around for show.
Then, when she was thirty five,
She asked her mother for advice.
How could life have gone so wrong,
And made her pay this lonely price?
She was handed a picture,
Of her mother at seventeen.
She was very beautiful,
And had been the homecoming queen.
Her mother could have chosen,
The most attractive boy in school.
And become his Barbie doll,
To show his friends that he was cool.
But she wanted more from life,
There was a future she dreamed of.
A husband and family,
A life of happiness and love.
Vanity prevented that,
Life is more than a handsome face.
Who cares if your friends approve,
Of who you’ve chosen to embrace.
“I made my choice out of love,
And your father was right for me.
He was never popular,
But he was all that I could see.”
“And to him I am precious,
I’m the cornerstone of his life.
We faced it all together,
Through both the good times and the strife.”
Forty one years together,
And her parents were still in love.
They had the storybook life,
The kind she had always dreamed of.
A life not far out of reach,
For one who looks in the right place.
For you’ll only find conceit,
Behind the most beautiful face.
There are too many choices,
Places to see and things to do.
A world at their fingertips,
The vain can’t settle just for you.
Love is not about the face,
Because faces always grow old.
It isn’t about money,
Because love can’t be bought or sold.
Then she finally understood,
Where love’s journey would have to start.
You can’t see it with your eyes,
You must seek it within the heart.
Only then can someone know,
If they’ve found their husband or wife.
True love is the foundation,
Where you'll build your beautiful life.
Comments on this poem/writing:
|Meridian (126.96.36.199) -- Thursday, October 6 2005, 12:29 pm|
Marvelous work Mark! I wholeheartedly agree! It's the disposition and persona that matters! Worded beautifully as always Mark!
|Jughead (188.8.131.52) -- Saturday, October 8 2005, 06:07 pm|
Hey. I think this is the first time i've read ure works. Splendid work. Really good it's as though you've written what i wanted to say. Completely.
Keep it up.
|Mark Spencer (184.108.40.206) -- Sunday, October 16 2005, 12:57 am|
Thank you both for your kind words.
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