Escape.
Her face though unwrinkled looks doubly lived in,
already by festering hurts disabled.
Neither willing nor able to feed life by forgiveness,
not giving she writhes in frustration.
Fast as it happens no man who has laid her could
guess she is only yet in her teens.
Poor little rich girl cannot use her inheritance to
counteract speed on the streets.
Aware she decides to hide behind wealth her mind
thinks taking is more her station.
Cut now your losses young miss, escape if you can
from funding pale imitation.
No little harm awaits those who fly in the face of
what hardened living becomes.
Run to discover a better reality for nature shuns
vandalised plants needing sun.
Untie some comfort, stand upright and you will
breathe again soon, as a queen.
Come, let me show you a braver new world and
teach you what care really means.
care wins over money everytime
just shows money can't buy every thing..specially happiness..like the old saying goes " I'd rather be poor and happy-than rich and sad....
fay ...hiding behind wealth...very true that it takes more than it gives
Got the poem now ! Thanks for sharing , -Raj
Fay the title says everything....a sad poem
in to thin air
minimalism at its best
Fay???
HI FAY , where is the text ? -Raj
There is a sense of generations here, of advice offered. And a sense that such advice is futile, that mistakes must be made and experience must be gained. But the ending is generous. Perhaps not all mistakes must be made.