Sanctioned by her own conscious she harbors her resentment <br />In the dirty panties and crusted socks she sleeps in each night <br />They comfort her in her misery and provide another excuse <br />To curse God for painful truths she feels he bestows on her alone <br />Each morning she is awakened by the sound of ravens and crows chasing prey <br />As she rises from the dead and peers out her only window to the world <br />She sees them as similar victims of circumstance beyond their control <br />And she prays they find red meat for breakfast… <br />She brushes the nights mucus from her teeth and then coughs her sorrows <br />Into the dry sink as she hangs her toothbrush next to her face in the mirror <br />She combs her hair with black fingernails and saliva <br />Hell bent on being seen as ugly she conceals her beauty in colors of sin <br />And whispers on her way out the door and into Hell <br />“Let the day be damned”<br /><br />Ted Sheridan<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/and-to-think-i-once-called-her-princess/
