Bravura

I was so ready to become something that you created, so long as I shined brightly. So long as I was not taken lightly.

I was cut short.

My fame was a long-lived lie.

There’s nothing more,

A laughing face that forces me to rise.

My anger summons a fist.

Everyone was scolding and scoffing and laughing and mocking!

I was part of the list, restrained by the wrist,

And I was forced to take an untasteful flogging.

Pugnacious and snide.

The comments are bold and arrogant.

They hit me with force when they arrived.

Oh, I try and I try, but I can’t.

Gold looks pretty.

Murder makes me guilty,

Justify it by being angry,

Because she made me filthy.

Regrets contaminate the sane.

Hopefully, they’ll be saved from the taste.

Oh God girl, never- never trust the fame.

It will filter you through like waste.

Everything I did was exposed,

And the true being was revealed.

I tried to be good, I suppose,

But my hope, like you, was killed!