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A Painting

A tall and lanky woman appears with crimson eyes
she seems to be absent but I see through her disguise
she's beautiful and cunning, with a morbid look and dazed control
her beauty is hidden in her sense, her calmness, and her pull
her pulling is her undesirable look which seems to make me anxious
I feel as if only she and I can understand that she makes sense
she stares at me from her corner space with eyes mysteriously doubled
I realize her thoughts, that modern teenagers leave her troubled
the emptiness in her eyes helps me believe her empty heart
to not believe how lucky we are is tearing her apart
she stands there in silence, holding hands with herself
accepting she's alone, only her and no one else
how long has she been standing there ?
with her hands cupped and her pulled back hair
she stands perfectly just staring out into our world
as if she's been there her entire life, waiting since she was a girl
her hair is pulled back, with wavy locks down by the sides of her head
her hair is back to show acceptance to the wavy locks- indicating her struggle to be fed
her elongated body and slim shoulders make her appear sick
however, the sickness that you see in her is building rumors that are to thick
though the thoughts in you minds and the fear in your hearts is a disgusting overrating
she is not vile nor demented, to you, she's simply intimidating
her skin is almost glowing with her desire to set you strait
she will not be judged she will not be scorned, yet you insist on hate
her sentimental face is distorted but embracing
her leaning neck is her reaction to the crooked world that she is facing
still she manages her pain, she releases it by being lost in her mind
the same thought lingers in her mind, that everything changes over time.

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