Brass and crass,
But a sculpted beauty
Is how she is
When she comes to me
I’ve touched her in ways
That she’s never known
And when she plays
She’s a child ungrown
Toughness born of need
Covers a softer core
And there she finds
That she’s so much more
Something that she
Never thought could be
And inner beauty
Is at last set free
Karl Stuart Kline
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/3-31-for-tirana/
