Above Average

Above Average

There is a passion

in the pudding,

looking out windows

when there is no smell

to the air,

she sits in

cool contemplation.

 

Average in many ways

but one,

her arms are crossed,

waiting for her share

on a stained

city bench.

 

Pompously.

 

She wants only,

what the world

has to offer;

finding creases,

in her best

Sunday dress.

 

And burning holes,

in the pages

of her Bible.

 

She is down

to her last,

cigarette.

Reviews

[Silvario]

this is really great! i enjoyed this piece. so very well written with professional structure and smooth sweet flow of words all sending a very powerful messege.

very well done indeed :)