Litkicks Message Board Archive

she that thought that she was

Posted to Action Poetry




wasn't
exactly what she had planned
herself to be.
These things happen you know.

You reach old age,
life's passed you by,
look in the mirror
and don't believe what you see.

Life has been blinded for you.
The windows were always shut.
Blame your mother.
Or your husband.

The red dress which had always been worn
on holidays,
was bleek. Did not seem to ever have been
scarlet.Color of love, lust and lips.

The face you face smiles
a wrinkled image of a
happiness,
that had died your youth.

The eyes you witness
watch in silence,
as you cry
to forget.