Adorned in Spring,
Until youthful know-how falls in June.
Then towards experience the stark streets draw near,
Hypnotized by clawing chemist shop traders soon to be fawning:
Business acquaintance high and low, dead and dying.
And July brings working blood-stained concrete corners;
Miss Misery cries with her soft smooth skin to the predator
In his four by four family car.
So Autumn time and red rose petals falling,
And Wintertime draws in and vultures flying,
Over neon-lit working women,
Drawn in rattling desparation to shivering street corners,
To risk existence, lose pride,
Their design a warm and dull and drowsy ride:
Childish dreams of castles and spires and Rapunzel golden hair,
And fair princes upon bended knee in wondrous love and hypnotic stare.
In her corrupted room, the only choice to rise,
Back to work, face made up, an image to despise.
On a Christmas Eve en route to Midnight Mass the good did espy,
A dark form in a dark doorway that she did lie.
Where 18 years' past the Spring did rise -
The Earth and Stars were in her eyes,
On this eve of her 19th year,
Despised and debased, in that dark doorway she gently died.
AJ Buttle (Date Unkown)
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