Born in a storm in early spring
a troubled sign
for the trouble life would bring
mother and father too young to understand
their native heartland
but it would reach them
with lessons far spreading
soon shedding the ties
and tearing their lives
one to the corps to build bridges and roads
one, with two girls, to the far western coast.
before long, problems doubled
and life on the streets was soon home
a mom and two girls
while families turned their steely eyes
on this sad little trio
struggling to survive.
scenes etched in a young mind forever
and who could really blame her.
too much time had passed
a year in an orphanage was next
then her father’s family finally came
to take the girls back home again
leaving their mom to fend for herself
to stumble alone
as each day passed her beauty grew
though young and naive
this she knew
and would brandish it
like a weapon
even when it turned on her
stirring nasty men with their nasty intentions.
her beauty without
would inspire within
a will to escape the land of her kin
so she left.
at sixteen years she packed a bag
boarded a train
refashioned her name
and set sights on the Windy City
where she could pretend to be someone else
where the pain and the who of the young girl’s past
might get lost in the crowds of the city.
little did she know
it would haunt her to and fro
for the scars were deep and gritty.
yet she molded herself
into someone else
her beauty soon led to some success
with misgivings deliberately hidden
behind high fashion clothes
fancy new cars
and a smile that was ever beguiling
while the child within
fists always clenched
ever frightened to lose all she gained
for loss and fear were well ingrained
she never felt true satisfaction.
yet her beauty grew more mesmerizing
and her heart was ever trying
and her mind was ever reeling
the world in such a special way
making people love her
though she kept them distant
day after day
in a life that was filled with choices
there were so many dark, disturbed voices
which often spoke louder than others.
trust was a stranger
she questioned all angles
and often found solace in shallow rewards
in monied, depthless people
whom she deemed her equals
but those people were simply cowards
hiding in their golden towers
holding their lives above all
eager to see others fall
and she fell.
fell for a dreamer.
fell for a schemer.
fell for the trappings –
broken promises in shiny wrappings.
for a man she could never truly trust.
for a man who put her love below lust.
and the more that was taken
the stronger her obsession
with things that looked good on the surface
but offered no healing
five children she saw as her greatest success
she preened them and nurtured
the way she thought best
but the nest was so fragile
built of gossamer twigs
perched on flimsy branches
rocked by changing winds.
protecting illusions with stubborn pretention
and guarding the nest with utter resentment
she hid behind conceit
doing what she deemed was right
high walls built on fiction
with ever-present friction
and behind them we thrived
at least for a time
for troubled beauty was our teacher
often hard to truly reach her
the less I understood
the more I tried.
there, though not always present
our beautiful, troubled guide
ignoring the unquiet ghosts
shunning the unresolved pain
always running from her beginnings
and clenching her fists to the end.