This poem has been submitted for possible publication.  It will be reposted as soon as possible upon final determination.  Please feel free to peruse my poesy at your leisure.

Thank you so much,
PrttyBrd

This poem has been submitted for possible publication.  It will be reposted as soon as possible upon final determination.  Please feel free to peruse my poesy at your leisure.

Thank you so much,
PrttyBrd

The candle flames, oh how they taunted.
Stubborn obstacles to her familiar darkness.
Mockingly swaying with the breeze,
Burning through her sanity; singeing her happiness.

As she toyed with the ashes with her slender fingers,
She stared at the flames till her wide eyes were blinded
Despite the despise she felt toward their existence,
Secretly, she liked their warmth.

In the inferno blazed painful memories,
There was a thin line between warmth and searing heat.
While her lips smiled, her eyes wept.
Never did he look into her eyes; never need he know.

She tried to put them out- a final weak attempt,
Oh how the flames taunted, how they jeered.
Watching them dance through the darkness of the night.
She knew she had to first extinguish herself.

She dyed her hair dark
To match her young heart, once red
Like the scars that cover her arms
The lies in her head
Come apart when she cries
Every word from her mouth is a beautiful lie
Look into her eyes
They're screaming suicide
But somewhere inside's a girl who doesn't want to die

Why do we feign such rapturous delight,
in pretence to others that all is alright,
what if the soul is quietly suppressed,
cloaked in darkness, hidden and repressed,

Are we ashamed to drape the veil,
to retreat into darkness and embrace the pale,
truth can be found from deep in a frown,
so why wear the clothes and tears of a clown.

© H V Swan