Praying For A Red Light
My heart stands flutt'ring in the wind
and not a soul to reach
to take my shriveled, bleeding heart
yet, ho! I sit and preach
The Dolls Braided Her Hair
She wove ribbons in her hair,
the gold strands mixing with the red.
It help her naivety,
her innocence until she met Kindergarten
The empty seats are always
next to me, a vacancy on either side
which no one cares to fill.
Not knowing what to do or where to go
The Water Pipe
A simple task, it should seem, and followed every day,
she stumbles over cobble to pump what she can carry.
The faucet, more beautiful than anything she owns
still gives her simple, ancient water and has never failed to dry.
Unwanted, yet completely willing
she is untouchable.
A curse laid upon her by middle school,
she became untouchable.