By Lisa Marie Harmon
She wore a favorite purple shirt
She wore a favorite purple shirt
The day she
learned the truth
It didn’t
stop the stabbing hurt
Or take her
back to innocent youth
She ran
through purple flowers
Tried so
hard to get away
She ran, it
seemed, for hours
But truth
was there to stay
She glared
up at the purple sky
As her
dreaded day drew closed
The many tears
she shed, now dry
Her mind and
body, now composed
She walked
back through purple flowers
Steadily mustering
as she went
The total sum
of all her powers
Control of
every sentiment
She opened wide the purple door
Choosing to
be strong and brave
Deny the truth,
she would, no more
And thus, no
more, a slave
National Poetry Writing Month entry, day 1.
Prompt: Something Purple
No comments:
Post a Comment
Thank you for commenting on my blog post! If you like my blog, become of member or subscribe! (Check out the side bar on the right.) You can also share it with your friends via Facebook, Twitter, or email. I appreciate you!