One Day Counts

1.12.15

Stress

Shiny red lips

Always pursed too thin

A frown line

Apparent but fine

Her red hair is in a tight bun

She turns her head, through the bus window

Looks at the sun

Shakes off the knots in her back,

Dreams of a baby blue Cadillac

She needs to smile,

She tells herself to let go

To follow the flow

She can't

She's unsure of everything,

Especially herself

And did she lock the door?

Does she need to do more

'Smile,' said the father to the young girl

And so she went awhirl

She looks at the eggshell clouds in the blue sky

Looking for shapes, she finds lies

And the woman can't focus, or think

Into herself she shrinks

The bun is graying, her mental state fraying

The woman feels broken