It’s the picture of a young girl
brimming with pride and beauty
her glory and vanity standing tall
joyful irony pushed inside
where it clutches and chills
her warm, throbbing heart
A martyr in her mind,
She burns at the stake of her own
Making
not a tear of rain in the dark sky
to quench her yearning
Craving the power to suggest
filled with a need to be understood
without disdain, she
suddenly is empty.