Inner Beauty

Inner Beauty prose poem

Photo by Conal Gallagher


Some days, I sit and dream of being something beautiful.
I dream of being the sweet flower in every person’s garden,
Or the little butterfly that every child loves.
I dream of being the magnificent peacock, flaunting every gorgeous feather,
Or even the picturesque mountain scene that is searched for every day.
But then, I realize from time to time that the outer things will fade away,
That inner beauty is purer than anything that is on the outside.
It is purer than the clearest waters of the ocean,
Or even the most precious diamond.
But, in order to have inner beauty, my actions must reflect my words.
My thoughts must reflect my heart.
For soon enough, the soul’s inner beauty will surpass anything considered beautiful on the surface.

Rate the poem
1 Star2 Stars3 Stars4 Stars5 Stars (2 votes, average: 4.00 out of 5)
We are posting your rating...

Have something to say about the poem?

Profile photo of Kathryn Sain

Kathryn Sain

Signup / Login to follow the poet.
I've been writing poetry ever since middle school, but I've never really thought about releasing my work to the public until coming to college. Currently, I am studying music as my major and English as my minor.
Poems you will love

Give your feedback / review for the poem

1 Comment on "Inner Beauty"

Notify of
avatar
Sort by:   newest | oldest
ZUZANNA MUSIAL
Member

Hello, Kathryn Sain.

Loved your dreams and the fact that you realized that the inner beauty id more important then the outside beauty. Your prose poem kept my attention to the end.
Excellent write with lots picture in my mind eye.
Much enjoyed reading your words.

Thank you,
ZuZanna

wpDiscuz

Beauty

Beauty prose poem

…So. I said: what is beauty? He said: it is the impossible being real, it is the kohl of a string on the forefingers of a guitar player, it is the explosion of astonishment on a beautiful lady’s waist, it

Beauty And The Beast

Beauty And The Beast short poem

I’ll teach you how to read How soft the pages feel underneath your rough fingertips I’ll teach you how to play the violin, How music reveals what’s been hidden for years I’ll teach you how to braid your hair To

Thine Beauty

Thine Beauty short poem

The beauty of thine essence is the one, which never to be compared to ye. As, thou art the miracle of this alluring nature. And thy is the beauty which exhibits thousand works of the superior lord. From whence I

Beauty

Beauty short poem

In the dust storm a discarded moon sat in my lap. Then internal rhythm crashed. Amorphic I would not find the music of words translated into a kiss. Gold started weeping in my hands. The clouds will rest after committing

The Beauty Fades When I Am Not A Keats

The Beauty Fades When I Am Not A Keats short poem

The bygone art, a dead shrine; Thou not dead, thou live… shall live By art of carve that plays on and will it play Forever, timeless, in century’s lap The beauty, thou struck me a year back: So calm, so