Beautiful, a Poem

don’t ever tell me
I’m not beautiful
don’t tell me I’m not the
Shining sun
Breathing existence
To the seedling products of this
blue
sphere
don’t tell me
I don’t encompass
All aesthetics
And
All bliss
That I’m not that flower
Not that tree
That I’m not THE blue skies
or them awesome clouds
Spilling
Rain
On an arid desert
don’t tell me me
I’m not as aesthetically pleasing
As the snow capped mountains
Standing tall in the distance
please don’t try
Don’t ever tell me
I’m not beautiful
Cause I convinced
I
Long before
You
Came
that I’m not
With a soul comparable to this earth
and all its tragedies of war and famine
A torn psyche
Gunning points of confidence down
Stepping over bodies of hope
Flinging cigarettes over the once living comfort I had
To think im a mountain
to learn I’m a volcano
just…a…tragedy
Don’t tell me I’m not beautiful
Cause I’m convinced of such
I am earth and nature
A calamity we trust.