Waltzing Flower

I always see her by the lake,
Plucking petals off flowers, dancing
In the midst of butterflies, under the
Rays of golden sunshine that
Shoots stars off her copper hair.

Stepping over the sharp stones that
Drew the blood from her bare feet.
But pretty smiles were still painted over
The unseen wounds, to ease the pain, to hide
The emptiness on her face.
Pretty smiles were deceiving but I ponder,
What does lie beneath those hollow eyes?

As I passed the lake next day, there was
No sign of my waltzing flower. But then
At the far end of the lake, there she was
A vision of pink silk, sorrow etched on
Her beautiful features.

On her side, a man.

A man who took her heart, tearing
And breaking it apart. Her chastity removed,
her virginity taken by the lust of his loins. I
stood there forlorn, lost, confused. As I
watched my waltzing flower walked away,
in the embrace of his lust.

Natasha Lim
4 Grace