|GLASSY STEPS UPON TRADITIONS' VEIL
By monicaspirit on 01/22/2006
Upon the floor of carpeted concrete,
I tread as if on thin, delicate, glass -
One smidge too heavy,
And all the room could come down,
With a large crash -
The fault instantaneously upon on me;
Music bellows out necks of shiny brass,
As I try my best to smile,
Whilst walking slowly,
Much too slowly,
On traditions’ veil as if it were glass,
My every breath in slight rasp;
No one but wind floats at my side,
As I dexterously stride;
Black stares turn over me,
On both sides – strangers, friends, and family -
Their smiles stretched to the full,
With a porcelain glow;
Hollow. All hollow.
Love like a bottomless well;
My sweat stains my cloud of a dress,
As my anxiety starts to swell,
On the abominable walk for show,
Whose pace resumes to be for me much too slow.
A nick of cloud hitches upon my heel,
With a glitch I kick it as my anxiety turns on reel.
The porcelain smiles keep,
Alongside every oily stare -
Empty, all empty,
To my joy and to my despair;
I take a breath,
And finally the carpet ends under me -
My crown gives a sigh,
As I tremor as if just served a fresh exhausting high.
My hand is taken and held,
My anxiety drops as my pride takes a swell;
I take a glance back at the carpet spread like blood,
Then to the people whose smiles cover their tongues of mud -
Glassy gazes glaze and closet the shaft of return,
All minds ready to accept turn I am about to be banded to.
The glass turns to concrete underneath my strengthened feet,
And I turn back with a smile at the trophy I will soon reap.
© By monicaspirit On 1/22/2006 6:08:28 PM