Pricked

Self proclaimed
giver of grandiose implosions
leaving life motionless
preserved in its unrelieved cacophony...
In your face, in everyone's face.

Coffined beneath articulated verbiage
honed denial,
spurious apology lacking remorse
a bleached perspective
sheeting in the wind
as you parade in your faux innocence,
draped across your heart.

You cannot fool the child
standing amidst the heap of hoarded piles
you call...treasures
walking through steeped gutted pathways
holding on to disappearing hand rails.
Blindfolded, blindsided
hearing only your rant.

No. The child grows truth.
A rose that cannot be denied.
Tears that stain the hand crimson when...
pricked.

SadieLu 12.

Have missed you and your writes dear Sadie.. ..

Such heartache when need becomes obsolete and can only be replaced with anger...The art of survival...A bad deal for both mother and child....Penetrating, pointed expression Sadie...You amaze!!...

I thank you. I am happy to be here, for I miss you as well.

Thank you, your kind observation is welcomed in whole.

Jeff, sweet thank you.

very nice...

awwwwww.....thankyou,teasingbrunette

Excellent write....

excellent write

always amazing, always so honored to read you!

You are kind to this woman. So very cherished, my friends here.