Deadside Manners

When her eyes are closed she hears only screams.

These taunting sounds that haunt her dreams.

Everyday it reminds her,

As she stroked her hair that felt like tapir fur,

Blood coursed veins,

She tried to grab the reigns,

Nothing she did,

Could stop a tragedy for a little kid.

When she was alive,

She would always strive

To be different and defiant, to prove she was not to obey.

Some things had happened, and in without a moments delay,

She took her life to some dismay.

As it happened she panicked and knew she could not turn back.

Her courage was something she had always lacked.

She felt out of place,

Just another random face.

But when she met Him.

Her happiness filled to the brim.

She felt like she could do anything, when with him.

She felt more slim,

More beautiful,

Her heart became crucible.

Soon it was not enough.

Living to standards became tough.

The horror she saw with her eyes,

Soon came to be her demise.

She was scared and felt alone.

No one would accept her in their home.

She felt pathetic and was beyond assistance.

She cut her life away with no resistance.

When clocks turn back.

And the heart sees what was lacked.

The past is on its journey,

She does not want to see herself carried out on a gurney.

She knows what she must do,

She sees the past self in adieu.

A pas deu chat so quiet

To disperse this disquiet.

She continues to try.

But they are as good as learning to fly.

She stole-she hurt- she lied.

But soon the binds that she had tied.

They had come undone and no matter what she is to do.

Her life is saying “Adieu!”

A cruel game of fate.

A race against time only bringing hate.

A sad feeling inside

Where love cannot reside.

She had cut her life.

Disappearing from a world of Strife.

It was a second chance.

Her qualities must enhance,

But no matter what she did,

She could not save the life of a kid.

She could not save a life that was the most important to her, one with the spirit of a Dhole.

She could not save her own life, her own heart and her own soul.

Reviews

[Patrick Henry]

I think it's romantic. Yup!! I have never heard a girl even call "gorgeous, cute, adorable, worthy, and that maybe my name calls their heart". I am told since my younger years that I am important without anyone saying why. Sometimes, I think I shouldn't be here, and maybe the girl in the poem shouldn't be either. A dark reflection to only look back on in the future, and know that you have come a long way and succeeded at something.... whatever that is. xoxo -Mark