Sprung from the soils of this land.
A ravishing like the savannah,
lay a gem that now fades through the cold.
Embroidered with a beauty that
now graces her soft black skin.
Curves flattering her body and
mocking her shadow at dawn.
Curled with a deceit she must
have embraced a few moons ago.
A pride that revoked her character
with every man that she met.
Men of all sizes and height-
attractive, rich, poor and more.
Proposals might have come,
a few gifts to give, a closed defiance
she embraced as she swung her hips
with pride, trashed and trampled at their ego.
Her lips now cracked with years of lipstick
often gibbered with thoughts and lines of Feminism.
A close companion she picked up from the internet,
books she loved to read for the perception
of womanhood that now tickles her
soft round breasts and gives her the chills.
A fleeting beauty she loved to flaunt,
an intelligence she embraced.
Compliments they came,
now flatters that bruise her skin.
No man was good enough.
High expectations and illusion
often dawned with each glare.
A superficiality she couldn’t fathom.
A few moons gone by, an education she sought
now distress through the cold, lonely nights as
she pauses to remember Paul, Jack, Peter et al-
Faded dreams and freckles now a new master piece-
wrinkle and flabby bits of flesh, a punishment of age.
Biological clock ticking faster than a horny man’s clock
and whispers of menopause tickling her flesh –
A faded beauty, filled with sorrow, regret, bitterness and anger.
Quiet strolls through the streets as every suitor
she must have known now walks with pride, a bride in hand.
Perhaps she should have lowered her expectations
now a sad song through the dusty paths.
Regret borne through a lifetime of pride,
selfishness and deceit now a bitter meal served cold after dark.
Desperation and fate perhaps will snug her a lonely, desperate man.
She folds her lips and speaks to the wind.
It is after all, a lost cause…