The Dryad's Beauty
Many pass beneath my outstretched arms,
And I ponder to myself,
What if I possessed a form like theirs?
If I had the face of man,
what would others see?
Would my eyes be sunken
Like those who linger in the night,
Drinking their own poisons?
Would my lips be bitten raw,
Like those who run frantic
From place to place,
Unable to find peace?
I see many pass who once admired
The flowering masterpiece
I once was,
And I wonder...
If they saw me as one of their own,
A reflection of myself in their image,
Would they still like what they saw?
Would they still think I was beautiful?