Monday, December 20, 2010


Ivory skin, red lips,
 Doe eyes, black curls
The world rises to greet you.
 Men flutter around you like bees on violets.
 Women smile at you, with awe and envy.
From your Rolls Royce, you see
Sunny faces in their rusted bicycles.
 You envy them, their freedom.
 You could have been one of them.
 When you utter a word, the world nods.
 Not fully understanding
But eager to please you.
 They agree, they consent,
 They never understood.
You light your cigarette,
 Toast your champagne.
 Another wedding anniversary,
 Another unhappy marriage.
You are marked for  a life
Where all pretty things dwell.
 You don’t want them,
 They don’t hear you.
 Cruel those kind words
 And strained smiling faces seem to you
To cage you in beauty.
 Trapped by high birth.
 Isn’t it as pathetic to see
A child trapped in wealth as it is to see
A child struggling with poverty?

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