Letting My Life Be Lived By Someone I Don't Reglcognize

The slow drizzle of the rain, waking up to the thunder rolling in. Grabbing paint and letting the beauty of this world seep into the canvas. Slowly and carefully every detail drawn in. The green of the trees, the pink of the flowers, the blue of the rain, the pretty stones.
Drawing the beauty held in the world.
But,
What about drawing the ugly of the world?
So many things. Horrid things, unspeakable things. Murder regret, remorse, drugs, adultery, untrustworthy people, lives being ruined, families being broken and smashed, hearts tossed and dropped, cracked and smashed, just in general broken.
The sad eyes of broken hearts, children, lives.
How can we draw the beauty in this world if there is so much hate?
What is so significant about this?
What is real beauty?
Makeup, plastic.
Who's real?
Who is really going to help you?
Who really has your back?
Why do people say this world is beautiful?
Because if you accept yourself, you will find that you are truly beautiful .
No plastics.

Notes