The Faulty Tailor

Thought of the idea on the way to school this morning, alone in the rain. Fun, I know.

A large car, with a driver too small for the engine, glided around the corner,

The mother fell, hit by the car;

A slam so loud it shook the ground,

She lay mangled and crying, blood streaming from her chest;

But her daughter walked away, with pockets too big for her trousers.

The children talked and laughed, swaying with joy, ignoring the girl.

She watched them with nothing but a blank expression, her soul was empty,

She picked her nails then grabbed her book and wondered into a cubicle,

There she sat, alone, reading.

Whispers of gossip leaked through the door, but she just pushed them aside,

Then she hid away, with pockets too deep for her trousers.

The pilot announced for take off, and she whispered to herself "If the world is kind, and the world is pitiful, this plane will plummet and all will burn."

She stared up into the sky, her forehead pressed against the glass,

The cold trickled through and numbed her head of dark thoughts,

For an hour, she was free, the stars subdued her to a restful melancholy;

She absorbed the black night, with pockets too deep for her trousers.

A crowd surrounded her, chanting "Corpse bride will never love! Corpse bride will never be loved!"

She stood strong and stayed silent, absorbing attention,

They pulled her hair and called her names,

They cut her trousers stole her bracelet; one blow and she was on the floor.

She held her wrist where the bracelet used to lie, hiding the scars and burns,

The rain masked a lonely tear,

She knelt in obedience, with pockets too big for her trousers.

The tall strands of grass caressed her body in the autumn breeze, she was resting in the beautiful night of a meadow,

Dreaming of a world where she wore skirts rather than trousers and that she was not the empty carcass she was today.

The trigger was pulled and she died with a faint smile and the lullaby of an owl to wish her well in death.

No one ever found her body, the corpse bride, married to death.

No one could've seen the gun, her pockets were too deep for her trousers.

Author's Note

Quickie, 20 minute job :)

Reviews

[guv]

wow, 20 mins... my poems take me months each... ur really talented.

i love the ise of symbolism, and references to a previous part, the descriptions give you just what you need for a vivid picture

very very well done