Those moments in time, when you pause in life;

you stop to smell roses,

but never consider the thorns that cut like knives.

Perhaps on a sunny day, when a few clouds whisk by;

you make out the appealing shapes,

but never on a grey day when the sky makes you sigh.

Then there’s the spring, when everything is clean;

you admire the beauty,

but never admire the showers that leave a muddy scene.

It’s these and so much more, that you don’t consider as more;

to say such things are ugly,

means the eye has yet to see true beauty in the seemingly ugliest of sores.