Miss Beautuful

"Well, there's Miss Beautiful," as I approach the porch step

Another cherished day - for a horrid illness crept

Bold brown eyes, with a happy, gentle smile

Every last second was ultimately worth while

He's a veteran; one hand with two missing fingers

Our breaking hearts full of fearful provision lingers

Perhaps we wait for a finale of relief

Hoping that his pain should only be brief

A protruding round belly, and tattoos on his arms

Deteriorating - his body undergoes slow fatal harms

And still, as he helplessly lays right there,

One last "Miss Beautiful" I get to hear



Now he feels perfect; and walks upon his perfect lawn

(that's what he'd always wanted) and from the world he is gone

He is freed of his suffering, truly happy at last

and with much beauty we'll always remember his healthy past


Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.


If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741