Belied

whispering handswhispering hands Under your skin Posts: 13,527
edited March 2007 in Poetry, Prose, Music & Art
So is the soul of a rotting woman,
Which once, was was free an gay,
Now belied in bondage; chains,
And her voice but a whispy stray.

Now her reality is so grim,
She was known for her youth,
Her hopes have grown dim,
As she faces alone "her truth".

For simplicity is gone, It died with a scream,
And all her hopes eloped with a dream.
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