Dangling

she sits on a ledge in the rain
dangling her feet
on a monday
she sings a song no one
can hear but her
she used to be a singer
till an evil man in black
took her melody
she holds a book -
a pen writing a love letter
to someone she does not know
the rain blurs the blue ink
it looks like a painting
of the melody she once had
the rain stops
the sun comes out
she puts on her sunglasses
 pulls out a cigarette
the matches are wet
so she holds it
in her mouth unlit
this was her swan song
without a melody
her goodbye letter
without a word
her feet no longer dangle
they are crushed by the concrete
she now lies on
monday morning beneath
a sky of gray
the rain kicks its heels
and washes the blood away

Reviews

[Kerry O'Connor]

I love the three opening lines - they set a whimsical scene so many girls can relate to - the idyllic time before men in black stole their joy. You bring it all back to reality in the last 4 lines...
monday morning beneath
a sky of gray
the rain kicks its heels
and washes the blood away.

Great work.

[Pearls Of Wisdom...Youn..]

Everybody dies but not everybody lives! true! living a life with no reason just on the basic instinct of man-kind pleasure and all that is a life with no reason no soul to hold unto just broken glasses and dusty beds to lay on!

[SpokenWord]

She had the worst luck known to woman. She didn't even get her last smoke in and she couldn't even write her good bye note! I see you have found your creative muse again as your pen inked this one creatively from beginning to end. It had a great start then you took us on her spiral downward all because of a man who stole her melody. Even in the end all traces of her was washed away, I feel bad for this woman that she didn't see the other side of love from someone else.

I really like in the beginning how her feet were dangling, very nice image :) I like this poem it is outstanding and reaches into some deeper feelings.

[Chris Smith Welshpoetcs]

The hopeless feeling, of having her soul stolen. Of noting left and jumping into the final void. A strong poem of suicide my friend.

[Samuel Dickens]

Sadly, this sort of thing happens, but I wish it didn't. Life is too precious to waste. Even when it looks like there is nothing left, there is still meaning and purpose to be found, if only one would look.
You've done an excellent job here of getting inside the head space of one who feels only despair.

[Tommy]

Rough start to the week. Chloe, this is a fantastic write! The melancholy imagery, plays well to a rainy day song, and that ending, holy moley, that ending is perfection...

Great Write!
RLG,
Tommy

[Emily B]

it's dark and moody and brilliant, I saw myself in the beginning, I've probably wandered too near the end a time or two . . . it's wonderfully written