Colors of the Soul

How beautiful it is, to see a soul bare,
With no masks to hide it and no one to care.

How sad that it is, that there is only one soul,
That any one man shall ever see whole.

The lasts of your defenses, the last mask you wear,
The one that you show when no one else is there.

The purest reflection, the one that is you.
The most beautiful aspect, and the most true.

It may be bruised and broken and scared,
Yet what soul is perfect when truly bared?

I wish I could see you as you are,
But I know that your beauty surpasses all others by far.