You took the sweet-lipped child
                             as she slept in innocence.
As she danced, with the daisies in her hair,
                             at a picnic party.
And now, 
The sour-mouthed woman
                rises from the broken fragments.
And now you wonder.
And now you back away in horror.

        The woman stands alone among you.
        The anger curdles deep within her.
        The weeds that curl around her fingers.

There she buried the young child.
There, she sacrificed the young child.

The grave, forever burnt into her eyes,
Shows where the young child died.

love's tempestunrequited love

◄ One With Nothing

Metal - Mania ►


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Aviva Rifka Bhandari

Sun 18th Apr 2021 21:02

Thank you for your comment Nigel 🌷

And eventually they are both reborn.

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Nigel Astell

Sat 17th Apr 2021 22:51

Child ghost dancing
dark dead daisies
mad screaming woman
running far away.

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Aviva Rifka Bhandari

Sat 17th Apr 2021 18:56

Thank you to everyone who has clicked 'Like' for this poem 💐

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