ART | Teen Ink


February 5, 2019
By Anonymous

Don't call me beautiful

I'm anything but that

I’m a mess of colors

With black-bold standards

that will never make sense to

a small mind

I was created by

two nut-jobs who

didn’t know how to

handle a paintbrush

To be hung in the museum of


Being admired and frowned upon

and to be given meanings in different

people's lives

I stand out with my

bright colors

And my color changing

eyes could make you

feel like i could see

right inside your soul

Like could read

your life story

And a chill would

run down your spine


Afraid that i could

grind up your bones

and get high off your faultlines

I say nothing

You tell me everything

Yet im silent

But so loud in color

The author's comments:

Be a beautiful mess

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This article has 1 comment.

on Dec. 17 2020 at 11:28 am
QuillAndInk2020, Boston, Massachusetts
0 articles 0 photos 1 comment

Favorite Quote:
"Sugar and spice and all that is nice"

I love the structure of the poem... the freedom it presents. I loved your clarity and expression.