Portholes

Circles, circles,circles
The world  beyond
These circles.
She makes me her
audeince day after day
There she models imperfection
While my manhood dwindles
To the shame of my condition
 Beautiful her beauty
I stand in defeat
Those she consider more perfect
Might stray her away
A smile in the morning
She speaks my name
Than happy am I
To than feel inferior
To what wish I want
Or have I made me
Center of an imaginary need
Swallows shall greet me
The trees shall be green til fall
My reality will meet me
To be lonely
Here might I stand tall
Beyond these portholes
She models before me
Each evening I watch from
Circles, while this beautiful
Admiration stands before
Me.