An angel with the softest skin,
her ambitions once flowed out of her like pages in a book
blowing in the wind.
Her name was Alice.
Alice Monday through Sunday
With fire red eyes, she glistened in the night
lighting up everything around her.
She could stare right through you, that venomous face,
those beat red lips,
cheating hips.
And yet there was a sadness that extinguished that inner flame;
made her so immune to everything wicked,
everything tarnished.
She viewed the world as a dark, cold alley,
the kind that harlots would get beat in.
Harlots like her.
With that deep ruby red lipstick, that black leather skirt,
and those fire red empty eyes.
All aspired hope lingers in her jewellery box – the crucifix.
And she wanted to be a doctor...
But now she’s Ruby,
Ruby red with black stilettos
every Friday and Saturday night
on the boulevard
she now calls home.
A contest entry
- Anything and Everything {Prewrites} by AbidoodleCullen.
450 points, ended September 1, 32 entries
Silver trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
1 - 10 of 10
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Loved it!
Thanks for entering and good luck!
Abi
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K I'M PUTTING IT BACK!
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w00t w00t w000000t!!!!!!!
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Really? lol.. I just replaced it with a different entry because I thought you -wouldn't- like it lol...
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No0o0o0o
It was on my finalist list
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You're welcome!
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From Alice to malice!
Great write!
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Thank you!
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The death of dreams can be a torturous thing, especially when the reality is lived as such is described here. Nicely done.
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Your name is - Ruby
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