Power
is in the wisdom
And
the pain needs to be heard
Screaming
for someone to listen
But
no one hears a word
Smile
and pat her on her head
Arrange
her thorny crown
Give
her words of encouragement
Than
kick her when no one’s around
A
woman lost
A
child once
A
ghost upon a shelf
They
give her pills to wake her up, to make her sleep,
Behave
herself
A
festering enigma
Like
the cuts upon her wrist
She’ll
be laughing at her funeral
And
wondering if she’ll be missed
They’ll
dab their eyes
They’ll
change their lies
And
go to church to pray
For
her soul’s redemption
The
little girl who’d gone astray
The
victor and the victim
Meeting
face to face
Haunting
memories in broken mirror
Realities
she can’t embrace
The
wounds are angry, raw and deep
Unreachable
inside
You
promised you would help her
But
you laughed out loud when she cried
She
lingers in the shadows
Of
a mystic waking dream
Like
the little hairs upon your neck
You
know she’s there, sight unseen
Place
lovely flowers upon her grave
Pretend
at least to care
A
struggle with hypocrisy
Because
you know you put her there
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