I hope you've ****** the blood
dry from your wounds
the fruit of a woman's
words
led their by the promise
of a future
there would be a silver
ring wrapped around a finger
and twenty pairs of eyes
crying
tears falling onto white cotton
lap
children being shushed
girls being pushed into lilac
dresses
old ladies pressing lavender
between liver spots
fearful thirty somethings
clutching at stems
I hope it doesn't look like this
when you look back
I hope the sun shone and your
father wept
his little girl learning how to be
a woman
from the back of a mans hand
fingers trying not to rub off the ink
a signature
as it sets
Apr 29, 2014
Apr 29, 2014 at 4:55 PM UTC
I hope you've ****** the blood
dry from your wounds
the fruit of a woman's
words
led their by the promise
of a future
there would be a silver
ring wrapped around a finger
and twenty pairs of eyes
crying
tears falling onto white cotton
lap
children being shushed
girls being pushed into lilac
dresses
old ladies pressing lavender
between liver spots
fearful thirty somethings
clutching at stems
I hope it doesn't look like this
when you look back
I hope the sun shone and your
father wept
his little girl learning how to be
a woman
from the back of a mans hand
fingers trying not to rub off the ink
a signature
as it sets
Request permission to use this poem