NONSOD: Tough Child

Tough child
With bosomy gone grace
And painted face,
Cast prematurely into a world
Swirling in contradiction.
I glimpsed you on the street
Mistook you for woman
Arched in my seat, double-took another look
To see you now for truth as some man’s daughter.
One who had gone lost, who never new laughter
But only cold breathless desire and appetite.
On that bright day I felt overcome for a moment
Sad, ashamed – ashamed for a world gone callous
And cold, that same world that you embrace,
That welcomes you with toothless cynic’s grin
And loves you for what you think you want to be
And never for what you are.



Good Friday 2005