Lady In Waiting
David J Walker
A woman of common hope
Stuttered through stolen and broken
Scripture
An illustrator
of common complaint
More common in nuance of
Failed restraint
In the vaguest of hues
Of Aqua and blues
Her mother cried over her brother
Her mother lied concerning her father
Her mother died alone in aniline leather
A practiced Lady in Waiting
What we're made of?
Perhaps the
invisible obvious,
Of human
misunderstandings,
Silent and hostile
stares.
We are made of
Silence,
Silk paper and
Aniline.
The colors of mine
Country.
We are made of
Fondant,
Flavors of the
Earth, and brow
Sugar.
Fleeting desires of
Cotton candy.
Illusion, hope, and
Cardboards,
This is discolored
Full.
We are made of the
Breeze, and dream,
Of pure nothing.
We go away at night.
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