Her, She, It
Not a care in the world about
what others thought about her,
but then one time she did.
Thus, she was shot out of the sky,
piercing clouds with gathered momentum.
Impact eating pain, and now she’s shattered.
Broken from slamming the ground so hard
the walls crumbled by her waves:
Demolished, and smashed, and torn by devastation.
Hands shaking so hard, she cant
put the pieces together, can’t
build the bridge to get over it.
Still she pretends to pick herself up.
Like the joker, her smile undying
Lip stick smear permanently cut in her face.
Few can see behind her trail of lies,
but I like to think I do.
Sometimes I see a glimmer
of hope under her eyes.
It may only be a small flicker of a flame,
but it burns,
and that’s what
matters.
