Fistful of Snakes
she suffered in silence
the inglorious dirt of rumor
as she tried unweave the web it wraps round her
far from being willing to live this way
the lies and the stink of deception settle in
but she keeps struggling against the tide
she is a sweet beauty incongruous
the late day clouds roll in
and she casts a weary glance at the troubled skies
trouble enough on my own
don't need another fistful of snakes
but deep down inside she knew she could handle
another dark day
long as there is the bright promise of someday
and as the rain and stink of decay settles in
she rises above like she always dose
people will always talk
spite is a hunger that is never sated
jealousy is a disease that has no cure
she suffered in silence
the inglorious dirt of rumor
but she is made of better steel
and this will never break the likes of her
and as she unweaves the web of lies
she feels stronger with the knowledge that she will win
Copyright © Mark Junor | Year Posted 2015
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