My version:
Pretty heels’ pain hidden with insoles
to lighten the burden
of all the weight
and off balance from
Life’s curves.
Not everyone can wear those heels, but
women strive to
Anyway to please…
A waste?
Perhaps, but for some
Such things make us happy.
Walking in her pretty heels,
Surety in her stride,
unseen pressure points
and pain hidden that
only translate to varicose veins
Life, one big test- a parlay
To the party, initiated at first breath
Trials giving way to testimony, leading
to testament at death.
Her unfolding story is mine
of boulders crashing down
tempests unresting versus the calm
spectator and actor amidst the rise and falls
A tumultuous mind, groaning existence
Stings ease with each silent scream
Suicide- won’t welcome the hand that
suddenly ends the huddles, the runs,
crashes and burns, the rumps, the bumps
and turns- Puddles of mud laying in front,
…So tired of the jump
Her life- a misty mirror with its many cracks
Tears mapping her yesterday
and in that same distance, trails of
“honey-coated” memories- strengthening
here and tomorrow, .
Brighter days just up ahead,
Rays soon to pierce through the gloom-
in hope she…
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Lovely! I like the idea of the insoles, like all the buffers in life 🙂
Cheers
FK 🙂
Thank you. I look forward to reading more of your poetry. Regards, Sandra 🙂