Joan Hart - Beautiful

Beautiful -
I despise the word.
Satan was God’s most
Beautiful
Angel
This outer shell
Bears no relevance
To the soul it inhabits
You say it
Like it means something,
Like I should shudder with gratitude
When the word leaves your lips
Our ears have been trained
To drink in such cheap flattery
As holy water,
The hollow word
Like a savior
But
When you call me
Beautiful
All it makes me think
Is that when you look at me,
You don't see
Me
At all

Joan Hart

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/beautiful-78/