by Leah C Wilson
Saturday, July 23, 2005
Rated "G" by the Author.
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She looks in the mirror and slowly paints on her smile
The one she wears each day as she goes anew to face the world
She’s practiced determinedly on poise, posture and good manners
She sees herself as a lady, one with the proper word in season
Befitting any occasion that would present itself unto her.
She places her hand on the door knob and once again
Steps into the hallway that leads to the side walk.
But this day, everything is different!
The mask she wears has become a burden
That she no longer feels that she can carry.
Deep inside, she knows that she is not one of the beautiful people.
She has been fooling no one but herself.
Yes, she knows who she truly is, as honesty pounds upon
The core of her being. Truths that she has tried to
Convince herself of, as being nightmares from guilt ridden days,
Or scenes from some long ago horror movie.
The voices screamed louder at her as she stood in that hallway
“Slut! Harlot! Druggie! No-good!”
Laughing, “Hahaha, you’ll never be a lady!”
She hears a piercing, penetrating scream
And realizes that the sound is coming from her own lips.
The neighbor’s shake their head in bewilderment
As they see her running down the pavement
Screaming and tearing at her own clothes.
Someone crossed the line today. Went over the edge.
Passed from sanity into insanity, torn apart by forces of reality.
Another drug dealer made a few bucks.
Leah © 7/22/05
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|Reviewed by Marilyn Seray
|a well-written poem of sorrow|
|Reviewed by E T Waldron
|Superb prose on a topic that needs to be continuously aired because it never ceases to be a heartbreak. Thanks for sharing Leah!
|Reviewed by Ed Matlack
|All women are ladies, no matter how they dress, look or act, as far as I am concerned...Ed|
|Reviewed by Felix Perry
|This is stark realism in poetry at best. Though sad this is happening more and more and more people need to be made aware of it.Good write and a good message to all.