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Her

She had a smile from ear to ear.

So huge she made birds sing.

But when she redirected her gears

Her emotions held together by a sling.

Whenever she walked 
She did not see her obstacles.
Selfishness to the point her thoughts mattered
Most.

Whenever she talked 
She did not hear others advice
Self-loathing to the point her words murmured a
Boast.

Her name was dared to be said.
She spent her days smoking in bed.
Then picked up up the museum of glass art
Hung by her mouth.
When her drugs were just right,
The old her wallows and the old her
Lies dead.

Copyright © Greg Wilcox | Year Posted 2018

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