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Thursday, 9 June 2016

Poem: Stained Glass Beauty

She was a stained glass beauty, 
Living in colours but marred, 
By the pain keeping her at bay. 

She was the first in everything -
In class, in losing her virginity, 
Pouting on cigarettes and cocaine. 

The first to arrive on the dancefloor, 
Wineglass slipping from her ruby nails, 
Shattering; she stepped on her own debris. 

He was a meandering river, long and languid, 
Time held no meaning for him, 
Or the features that could hail rain. 

He was the last in everything - 
In class, in pursuing all that he wanted, 
Because life itself handed him rich blessings. 

The last to cross the finishing line, 
Even though he was riding on the wind; 
Last one to find a love that would never last. 

The first time they crossed paths and lips, 
Was the last; and while he was her first love, 
She was the last person he wanted to remember. 

She was a stained glass beauty - 
First of her kind; he was a meandering river, 
The last man she'd loved before the fall. 

Copyright © 2016 thearcticstar

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