The awakening of
the soul,
the head,
and finally the body
has passed old Nella by
again.
She lies purblindly
on her forlorn,
forgotten bed of time…

Memories slicing thru her past,
stinging like a hornet.
Thinking of the nights before
which never came to be.
Poor old Nella
burnt again
and taken for a ride…
She doesn’t like to blame
herself;
She blames it on her pride…

Nella isn’t really hurt
(or so that’s what she says)
she’s been thru all those
½ *** games
a thousand times before.

Awakenings,
made up myths,
foolish dis (illusions).
That’s all there is,
and there ain’t no more,
so Nella says to me.
It’s time to close
my eyes, and
sleep once more,
to wake up when it’s better.