"Because you can be sure, my dear Crito, that misuse of words is not only troublesome in itself, but actually has a bad effect on the soul." Phaedo

A Provisional Solution:

Black and Whites adjust BW color descratched

There is no way to make ‘You’,
A better ‘You,’ then,
The ‘You,’ that,
Already,
Is.

Every extreme cut, scribble, and
Mind bending alteration,
Distances the heart,
From the mind;
Evaporating,
Spirit; the
Loving,
Bind.
Believing the body harbors,
A mystery to be worn,
On the outside,
Quiets what,
Is living,
On the
Inside.
Extreme pretention morphing the flesh is,
A sophistry confusing Satisfaction,
For Gratification, wanting more
Thrills for the crowds to,
Consume until the only,
Entertaining De jour
Is to devour,
Self; Tooth,
Nail and,
Claw.
There,
Yesterday’s
Meal, forgotten in
Today’s waist; the consumed,
Soul, Blaring the wounds in bearing,
The cross, each one of us Is born to carry, the
Loud demonstrations of personal anguish,
Sew badges of honor for all to see,
The personification of suffering,
Burying identity in contests,
Of contrived, contrary,
Human emotions,
Advertising,
Only,
Me.
But to,
Exercise our,
Personal anguish in,
August Acceptance is where,
True identity can only be beautified.
Given under a divine Spector, a grace is
From accepting the human body as a sacred place.
Where extremes boasts angry non-acceptance of ‘You,’
And striking retaliation reveals the refusal to accept what is true.

There is no way to make a better ‘You,’
But The Way can offer ‘You’,
A better ‘You,’ by
Accepting the,
‘You’ that,
Already,
Is.

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