All That's Left Of Beauty (Poetry)

i.m. Gia

Rare exotic creature —
that season’s gladrag plumage was all sham —
fine feathers kept you in the frame awhile
but once the lights were dimmed you shed thin glamour’s gown
and flew to grimmer haunts — perched with the damned
on rotten branches way too near the ground.

And you who’d flown so high to touch the sun
youth’s heart reflected brilliance in your eyes
they’ve robbed you of your time and freedom’s gone —
locked in the images they took to sell —
your pretty peacock tale of glossy fame
that came too soon so pitifully undone.

Who could have known such wondrous wings would let you down —
such perfection falter — find its faults and pluck
its own bright body raw?

Your photo gives no hint — no clue to flaws
of character — your nature posed a bold and vibrant glow
fashioned for the world to love — admire
and envy in its falseness. Too few saw
the naked creature cowering below.

And so you burned in your own fierce-blown fire
your body long-betrayed — your soul adrift in smoke
you’ve left a warning — vivid feathers float —
all that’s left of beauty sings too late
a truer wiser song.