Not Beautiful
I've never found you beautiful,
not in the traditional sense, you see.
Don't let that fool you though,
None other I'd have you be.
You're hair's not gold or radiant,
but rather the color of wheat.
Yet wheat is the staple we live by,
and the warmth that lays us to sleep.
The scars that trek across your skin
look so very out of place.
Yet I care not because they whisper
of the love that kept us safe.
Even the greatest of beauties won't linger,
and the fairest of all won't stay.
But I've never asked for either,
and I'd rather have you than they.