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A SPOKEN WORD POETRY COLLECTION
How Beautiful She Was is a spoken word poetry collection that journeys through the devastating silence of a love that forgot to speak. Told in seven acts, this is the story of a woman whose beauty went unnamed — by the one person whose words could have saved her.
A SPOKEN WORD POETRY COLLECTION
How Beautiful She Was is a spoken word poetry collection that journeys through the devastating silence of a love that forgot to speak. Told in seven acts, this is the story of a woman whose beauty went unnamed — by the one person whose words could have saved her.
How Beautiful She Was is a spoken word poetry collection that journeys through the devastating silence of a love that forgot to speak. Told in seven acts, this is the story of a woman whose beauty went unnamed — by the one person whose words could have saved her.
Through vivid imagery, raw emotion, and lyrical narrative, HBSW: A LoveD Story explores the weight of neglect, the erosion of self-worth, and the tragedy of love that arrives too late. From wedding vows to a bathtub filled with sorrow, from hospital rooms to a house consumed by fire — this collection is a mirror held up to every relationship where beauty went without saying.
A story of love. Loss. And the words we never said.
— How Beautiful She Was, Act I
Leonard Ra’Shaun, born on the far south side of Chicago, Illinois is an artist in every sense of the word. Whether it be writing, creating music or anything where self-expression and the use of the imagination is required. He is someone with a passionate, intense love for acquiring knowledge and a deep preoccupation with learning. Inspired by the Most High, this piece of literature “How Beautiful She Was” was created to tap into the human experience, for those who feel emotions severely but struggle with articulating those feelings.
I read this in one sitting and then immediately read it again out loud. This is meant to be performed, not just read on a page, you can hear the cadence in almost every line. The recurring refrain of “the man she LoveD” instead of a name is such a smart device. It turns him into an archetype instead of a character, which makes the whole thing feel less like one couple’s tragedies and more like a pattern a lot of women will recognize.
I want to start by saying the emotional honesty here is real, the depiction of a woman slowly disappearing inside a relationship where she’s fed, housed, and utterly unseen is one of the more accurate portrayals of that particular flavor of neglect that I’ve come across in this genre. The detail of her cooking five nights a week and him eating in silence without a word, “not even goodnight,” is a small, devastating image of erasure. That’s good, specific writing, it’s not abstract, it’s a habit, and habits are what actually kill people slowly
Evaluating this as a narrative work rather than a poetry collection: the seven-act structure is ambitious and mostly works. Act I sets up the neglect and her death: Act II flashes back to the wedding and miscarriage (this is a smart pivot, it recontextualizes everything you just read); Acts III–V handle the aftermath and her death in the hospital; Acts VI–VII bring the story to his death. That’s a real narrative arc, which is more structurally daring than most poetry-as-story projects attempt.
I read this for my book club’s “short but powerful” month and it absolutely delivered on that promise, we finished it in one meeting and still talked for two hours. It’s short, but it does not feel small. Everyone in the group had a different favorite line, which I think says a lot about how dense the writing is.
I read this in one sitting and honestly had to sit with it after. The rhyme work is the star here, the internal rhymes (“Stitched and sewn / Disowned, Face adorned”) and the wordplay around beauty products (mascara masking terror, concealer that can’t conceal depression) do a lot of emotional heavy lifting. It reads like it wants to be performed out loud, and I think it would land even harder on a stage than on the page.
I want to start by saying the emotional honesty here is real, the depiction of a woman slowly disappearing inside a relationship where she’s fed, housed, and utterly unseen is one of the more accurate portrayals of that particular flavor of neglect that I’ve come across in this genre. The detail of her cooking five nights a week and him eating in silence without a word, “not even goodnight,” is a small, devastating image of erasure. That’s good, specific writing, it’s not abstract, it’s a habit, and habits are what actually kill people slowly
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