karen@amd.UUCP (Karen Bain) (03/11/85)
*** REPLACE THIS LINE WITH YOUR MESSAGE ***
She carries it with her
Like a heavy ball and chain.
They won't let her put it down.
So she puts on a mask-
The smiles of slow death,
She won't let them know.
Every night, alone
In the dark,
She burries her face in a pillow of tears.
By morning she is empty
Just to be filled throughout the day
With threatening tears welling up inside her.
Damning herself, and cursing all others.
One empty day,
She'll drop that ball and chain,
And slowly unmask herself.
She finally will lay her head on a dry pillow.
And we will be empty.
And throughout the days
We will be filled with her unseen tears.
And every night, alone
In the dark,
We will bury our faces
In her pillow of drenched confusion.
-Karen Bain 3/80