M
Mad...Quite So..Indeed!
Guest
`
“To hell with rhyming”, She kicks off her shoes
“I have nothing to lose I can rhyme if I choose
But I don’t have to.”
These are the words that dropped out of her mouth
As she sat sullenly surrounded by her playthings
She dressed loosely in her housecoat, her too short jammy bottoms
And a chemise, not inclined to get dressed any time soon
Her hair uncombed, looked rather fashionable by the today’s standards
Her makeup from last night gaudily smeared, eyes resembling that of a raccoon
And she gave not a rat’s a$$
She was never like the rest, had a mind of her own,
She walked away when things were not working out, looking over her shoulder
Only briefly – and carried on without missing a beat from her unusual drum
Now, alone, her children have grown up created lives of their own.
She has the freedom to be where, what whoever she wants, yet she feels pinned down.
As she wildly dances around her living room, windows with curtains drawn, neighbours observe
The tongues start waggling; the stories grow, while she oblivious to the gossip carries on as usual
Doing things her way, all the way
Bills go unpaid and the lights go out, the house becomes chilly, she starts to get ill, confusion,
Muddling her brain, delusion and pain
She lies limp on the couch as the ambulance arrives, crews break down her door and she is taken from her home to a stark colourless room where she is incarcerated, never to return.
And within her heart, behind the eyes a silent passion burns, yearning for yesteryear remembering still that first sultry kiss.
`
“To hell with rhyming”, She kicks off her shoes
“I have nothing to lose I can rhyme if I choose
But I don’t have to.”
These are the words that dropped out of her mouth
As she sat sullenly surrounded by her playthings
She dressed loosely in her housecoat, her too short jammy bottoms
And a chemise, not inclined to get dressed any time soon
Her hair uncombed, looked rather fashionable by the today’s standards
Her makeup from last night gaudily smeared, eyes resembling that of a raccoon
And she gave not a rat’s a$$
She was never like the rest, had a mind of her own,
She walked away when things were not working out, looking over her shoulder
Only briefly – and carried on without missing a beat from her unusual drum
Now, alone, her children have grown up created lives of their own.
She has the freedom to be where, what whoever she wants, yet she feels pinned down.
As she wildly dances around her living room, windows with curtains drawn, neighbours observe
The tongues start waggling; the stories grow, while she oblivious to the gossip carries on as usual
Doing things her way, all the way
Bills go unpaid and the lights go out, the house becomes chilly, she starts to get ill, confusion,
Muddling her brain, delusion and pain
She lies limp on the couch as the ambulance arrives, crews break down her door and she is taken from her home to a stark colourless room where she is incarcerated, never to return.
And within her heart, behind the eyes a silent passion burns, yearning for yesteryear remembering still that first sultry kiss.
`