Epic Love Poem.

Across the beaten path of time,
Down the river bank that’s mine.
A broken soul waits to be met,
Complete only by the love I’ve kept.
She waits for me to sing,
To sing,
A sonnet that speaks of everything.
Of deep kisses and late night phone calls,
Of adoration and feelings not so small.
She can taste the words I speak,
So sweet,
She’s been swept off her feet.
I reach out to her for a sense of touch,
Goddamn.
I love her so much.
The breeze picks up,
Daylight rescinds,
Trees begin to dance in the wind.
I step towards her,
Looking for that familiar embrace,
She moves with utmost grace,
My heart begins to race,
Captivated by her beautiful face.
I’m swept up in her arms,
She keeps me safe from all harm.
“I love you” are the words I hear,
And I reply at the top of my voice,
Without a fear,
“I LOVE YOU TO,”
My dear.
And at the sound of my voice, the setting clears.
The winds stop.
The trees still.
The water stops.
The night is chill.
Back up the river bank that’s mine,
Back across the beaten path of time.
I’ve returned from the forest and the soul within,
With more love than I can hold in.
The soul returns with me from above,
She’s become an outlet for my love.

No such thing as racism, rather, inherent objectivity of the human being.

You posed the question:
"So why do we look at the outward appearance of others at first glance?"

To answer your question:
You HAVE to look at people's outward appearances upon first glance, actually, I would say that it's inevitable? This is simply due to the fact you used the combination of words "first glance." This refers to the idea that you've not only never met the person before, but that you've never seen them either. So, based on that assumption, wouldn't viewing the person in terms of skin color be the only way you can objectify the person without knowing any other prior information about them? It's all in how your mind manifests the existence of other people. You catagorize them because to engage each person individually would probably throw your mind into overload and eventually it would probably explode, considering the fact that 4 billion people inhabit the Earth. But that's besides the point. My point is, is that viewing someone in terms of skin color at first glance is inherent to the human being.

Rebirth of a heart left broken.

He saw her for the first time. Even though he had been looking at her all along, this moment seemed flawed. There was a difference in the mainstream of the atmosphere that seemed to open his eyes for him. He was seeing her in a new light, in a sense that he had never seen her before. He didn't know if he liked it or not, he didn't know if it was good or bad, all he knew is that whatever he was seeing in this moment, he wanted it to last forever.

He tried to put it into words, but all he could do was stutter. He tried to manifest it in his mind, but he had lost all control of thought. Maybe it was the way he woke up this morning, or maybe it was the way he layed down to sleep last night, but whatever it was, in this moment, he leaned back and slowly, but surely, you could see a smile slither its way across his face.

He was feeling content. He was feeling happy. He was feeling what he had tried not to feel for the longest of time, love.

A girl I once loved.

When you looked into her eyes, all you saw was a reflection of yourself. She was a very guarded girl. In some respects, you had to praise her for it, but when you were struck with love for her, it was a pain in the ass. It was quite obvious that her life experiences taught her to trust no one, let alone herself. The way she walked and talked pronounced the fact that she needed no guy, and certainly nobody.

The smile she held on her face was that of a porcelain doll, residing there only to fool the rest of the world into believing her transparent happiness. The exuberance she exhibited externally did not reflect the way she felt internally. She was the kind of being that lived in the past and made her home permanent there. The things she saw and experienced always remained in the back of her mind. To put it simply, there was no retaining the lesson and discarding the experience, it was retaining everything. She was a girl who always forgave, but never once forgot. She built herself this way, she was her own creation. She loved it, the way that deep down inside, she felt her blood freeze over. She thrived on vengeance and vindictiveness. Her beauty was what attracted all of the opposite sex.

Though she was pleased with her self-fulfilling creation, she hated herself in secrecy. Depression swirled behind her glistening blue eyes. Each night, she would intoxicate herself until the tears seized and her eyelids grew heavy and the darkness enveloped her psychological mainstream of a brain. Quickly, she grew accustomed to the ritual of destroying her liver to cope with the sorrow she filed away in the back of her mind. It was disheartening to watch her destroy something so beautiful, but if you knew what she had been through, there was no way in hell you could blame her for it. In some ways, you hated her for it, but it was that same inebriation that justified her insecurity and made you realize how fragile this girl really was. Ultimately, it was her sense of self-consciousness that made you fall in love with her.

She could have anyone she desired, and that was apparent to everyone, including herself. There was only one thing that this girl desired, and that one thing was something you would have never hypothesized as she needed it. It was the element of true love. All she needed was someone to love her rather than fuck her. She had a divine desire to find someone that would hold her in their arms and never release. She needed someone to taint her mind with thoughts of love, ultimately something to break that depression. Essentially, she wanted someone to blatantly care about her. She wanted to feel somebody intrude her thoughts during the day, she wanted words of love to resound in her head at night, and she wanted her creation to belong to someone other than herself. She needed the perfect person, yet, she didn’t know how to define “perfect.” That is why she never found true love, rather, it found her.