The Citronella
She stood by the citronella
staring at its jagged leaves
hoping they would grow and carry her away
Rooted in the ground, eyes drawn into its foliage
the caretaker peered over his cigar at her despair
removing the belt from his waist
his "sword" of fury
she called it his sword
for she did not know war
but she knew pain
the sword of fury thrashed down upon her back
she collapsed forward to the ground like a wounded soldier in battle
her face in the brown dust
blood seeping from her nostrils
igniting the soil with red
the caretaker smirked at her pain
she looked up through tear filled eyes
and saw a callous soul
the citronella plant was more righteous than him
in her desperation
she silently begged that the citronella
could lift her away from this hell.
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