Beautiful, Amazing Him
Thorn scars up his arms
Seem red like rose roots:
He came from these,
Blossomed into someone new:
Oh beautiful, amazing him!
He doesn’t think to cut the grass
For his body is a garden,
Eden never looked so pure
As when a bruised boy
Loves his wounds, his stretch marks,
Brown flowers, the belly he grows
When he eats and the spittle on his lips
When he laughs, oh, beautiful,
Amazing him.
If he could learn to hate himself,
He could also learn to love himself.
Even if he hates himself,
He must always learn to be himself
Since what would the world be
Without broken-beautiful boys?
He needs no love: he has his own
In this garden he has grown, oh beautiful, amazing
Him.
Poetry by Luke Cable 