My beauty is not a superficial claim,
Deep within my beauty is the half burning will.
Not even the religious crown and the self-righteous cloak
I wear for the world: to appease.
‘As white as snow!’
My beauty is not a bronze stature; flawless and mighty,
But empty and lone.
My beauty is a cumbersome baggage,
Crude and blunt, my beauty cuts through life in its own fashion.
My beauty is not what you need to see.
It is what it ought to be.
My beauty is the grain and chaff;
Part of me tumbles into a basket; another part is bound to the wind.
A poem by Tonny Wandella