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Poem
**~~**

She seemed to be like a delicate portrait
   which had fallen from its gilded frame 
Abandoned, lying face down on the cold winter floor
   An elegant portrait once painted
In resplendent hues of indigo blue 
Her eyes told a story of bittersweet 
   magenta colored sorrows bathed in tears
that etched themselves throughout
   The frail intricately, woven canvas of her soul 

Over time thoughtless hands had subtly 
   Contrived to manipulate the beauty 
Of her painted portrait into a resemblance 
   Likened to that of a cold, chiseled statue 
Carelessly molded by calloused fingers
   Lancinating the fragile fragments 
Of her spirit leaving her heart
   With etiolated worn fabric - called her life
 
She dreamed of Icarus soaring down
    on silvery wings of steel shrouded 
in cobalt and lavender clouds
    with outstretched, feathery fingers
lifting her up to dance a Stravinsky ballet
    As it was meant to be - not how it was 

She was a beautiful, fragile butterfly 
    bruised by a world much too harsh 
for her diminished spirit 
    leaving her unable to fly away
 from the skis thirsty rains 
    making it difficult for her to fly away
 from the skis thirsty rains
    It left her struggling to stay afloat
 In the springs melting snow 

Life had bruised her tender skin
   Gnawing away like insatiable insects 
On her delicate pink frescoed soul
   Leaving her feeling 
Like a fabricated manikin on display
   For all to pose her as they may

 Muddied soil was the blood that coursed 
  through her veins, holding her tethered heart 
in fleshy, mounds of chocolate brown earth 
  It held her helpless in its hold 
clogged by the silt which descended down 
  Into spaces of her soul…
Like murky strings of yellow tattered maize
  Leaving their ragged tassels tangled
Throughout her life flowing veins 
  Choking off the blood she needed
To nourish her hungry heart 

Mighty winds toppled her willowy limber tree
  Snapping the delicate boughs
Of her outstretched arms 
  As they pulled at the tender fleshy bark of her skin 

She stood cold and alone 
  In the icy winter night wrapped 
Only in her wounded, naked flesh
  With open, bleeding wounds 
Under the icy blue mist of the winter moon
Her heart and soul painfully revealed...
   In shades of indigo blue

                                                                     **~~**
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