maroon cardigan, book in hand
she couldn't care lesser
about being fairest in the land.
hair disheveled and eyes black as coal
love had seldom ever
met her course.
swift as a river, cold as ice;
she'd had half a hundred chances
to paradise.
but stayed she, waiting now
—for a glimpse of the church boy
new in town.
if there ever were a person
who saw the light in her dark eyes,
it was church boy with his golden smile.
cassette tapes with his favourite songs
he'd give to her; if only
he hadn't waited so long.
for church girl, now, was sent away
to a place where a rarity it was
to see the light of day.
locked up in the dullest chapel
she slaved away her life
unto her faith.
holding the book of god sometimes;
she would dream
of church boy's eyes.
but soon, her memory began to fade;
for she began asking herself,
were they green, or icy gray?
she hoped and wished
and begged for god
to let her leave, and let her love.
but it was not the lord,
who'd bound her so
—but instead, her own blood.
her shallow aunt and crooked uncle
would only need
an excuse to grumble.
so church girl's maroon sweater
stayed forever locked
in the dusty cellar.
church boy, meanwhile
served penance to his divine
for wanting to love the convent's novel pride.
church girl & church boy,
church boy & church girl,
there had always been a story;
much more than meets the eye.
