Seeking some stoic porcelain beauty

Once found beauty fills no void

Unable to stir a misleading core

Exquisite labors mildly considered

Thus consume all lesser lives

Sightings of dirt coated cherubs

Their heavenly high-pitched noise

Rural heartfelt banter purposely absorbs

Pristinely uncouth in garb and in speech

Scurvy eyes feasting on gluttonous forms

The ugly are not … upon close inspection

The quasi-sighted are monstrously wrong

They lack joyous depth and insightful reflection

Still beauty is what’s truly flawed

Connect to painfully happy rule breakers

Housed in opulent shanties and wretched estates

Fear no great or small mistake

Conformity and isolation kill the blinded good

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