Poems for The Boredom

That Girl

Her eyes are red and puffy,

her arms are crossed over her chest.

She sits there waiting for someone to come and make her confess.

Confess that she isn't really as innocent as she appears to be.

That she never fell in love before she did all those things, she waits there hoping to see,

Someone appearing in front of her, telling her everything will be alright.

That lying was the right thing to do for a girl that bright.

But no one comes, no one appears, she is left alone for many years.

She never really was a strong little girl, and as an old woman she never was a confident one.

She had never been the same since she kept all her fears,

sleeping in bed with her when the night was near.

The only thing she feared was being alone,

and those men she slept with always were gone.

Before the morning had risen up above her feet.

The men only wanted one thing,

the thing that kept her from being completley lost.

The thing she let herself give to that nasty old man, many years ago in a summer night wrapped around blankets of promises,

that were never real.