Paul Francis Hartnett Bayonne, New Jersey

Mr. Hartnett has been writing poetry for many years. Born and raised in Bayonne, NJ graduating local schools. Attended poetry symposiums and gatherings within the past several years. Has had several poems published and recently finished as a semifinalist at a Washington, DC symposium. Mr. Hartnett writes based on love, life, and the environment.

THE BEAUTY WITHIN True beauty come's from deep within, it's not in your hair, your looks, or your skin, true beauty is something you can never hold, and true beauty shines brighter that gold. Everyone has it, it's right there inside, but for most of us it's beauty we hide, when you reach out to the beggar that roams the town, and you offer to help, instead of putting him down, you become a beautiful person for all to see, and this is what real beauty should be.. If you say your sorry when someone's upset, when you soothe a child when they start to fret, when you offer warmth to someone who's cold, when you go out of your way to help someone that's old. It's these little things that mean so much and this is real beauty you can never touch. but few stop to think of things they can do or to cheer someone up that's feeling blue, there's just no time I'm too busy they'll say as they shake their heads and hurry away. So the beauty stays hidden deep within, and they continue to judge by the color of skin, never to know the glow that's inside, and to never have felt the feeling of pride, and to never have heard someone say you're the most beautiful person I've met today.

PASS THE BLAME Why must the children suffer, their always the one's that pay. a broken marriage, an abusive home, they never have a say, yet through it all they try to smile and display their childish charms, and all they need is a little love, and to be held in someones arms. But pick up any paper and the stories will abound, of children starved or beaten, or several that were drowned, we close our eyes and hold our ears at this horror beyond belief, yet these things are really happening, and they fill our world with grief. you read of a new born infant simply thrown away, a tiny little angel that never had a say. When is it going to stop, will we ever see the end, they're products of our society, so it's up to us my friend we must stop the moral decay, and turn this world around, before we read the story of another victim found. but no one wants to listen and we should hang our heads in shame and tomorrow when another child dies, we'll simply pass the blame.

A BROKEN HEART A heart has just been broken, but it's hidden from our view, yet someone's left with hurt and pain, not knowing what to do. It's impossible to see the damage that's been done for someone played with emotions, and to them they were having fun. but playing with emotions is a very dangerous game, for once a heart is broken it will never be the same. There are those of us that go thru life, and never stop to look that scatter broken hearts like torn pages from a book. but fate will take it's toll on these villains of disdain, and for sure some day, some how, they'll experience the pain. And it's at this point in time, as they stop to look around, the emptiness surrounds them and the heartaches will abound, and they'll cry our from the hurt, as they feel the searing pain, for now their heart's been broken, and they'll never be the same.

All poems Copyright © 1997 Paul Francis Hartnett. All rights reserved.