Young Mary Lou sat outside thinking again.
No one knew what was on her mind.
Not a soul knew she thought about leaving them.
No friend close by whom she could find.
She became defensive with passing days.
People would try to make her fight.
She thought her home would be a break from the haze
and held back her tears with might.
Yet soon she found she could not stand their shouts,
there was no where she felt at peace.
In time found she couldn’t handle the doubts.
She had to make all the pain cease.
All the hypocrites stand before her small stone.
The liars wondered why.
In secret tried one more time to find home
She drunk the arsenic. Say goodbye.
Author notes
Mary Lou
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Comments
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Poor Mary Lou, but why that name?
I think the image of the last stanza is best. If often thought that's how my funeral might be if I were to do that. There'd be all these dumb people there who were the cause of it all...
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