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Rated: 13+ · Poetry · Relationship · #1767726
A poem of taking back one's power.
The Wedding Day
By: Brittany H. Crawford




The heals of her shoes were ragged and broken,
Yet she treated them like a gem.
Not a word was spoken
As she fiddled with the hem
Of that old dress….
Oh what a mess.

Her mother grew tired and weary
Of going through the fight.
Her eyes were glossed and teary
Knowing that this wasn’t right.
If only her daughter could see,
That this wasn’t meant to be.

He looked just like an aristocrat
With clothes of fine thread.
Her mother still knew that he was a rat
But still they were to be wed.
Once they said “I do”
He kissed her lips and then she knew.

The fear built up deep inside her
Yet she kept that smile upon her face.
The rest was all a blur,
Till he had her in his embrace.
He put her soul right in a box
That damn man was as sly as a fox.

She cooked the dinners and cleaned the house.
Her hair became tangled and faded.
Even when she was as quiet as a mouse,
He made her feel degraded.
Till one night she finally ran,
And that wasn’t the end of her plan.

Six days later she returned to that place
With a shot gun in hand.
His eyes got big and there began the race,
She’d finally taken a stand.
Then she sat at the table smiling you see,
‘cause she knew she was finally free.
© Copyright 2011 Brittany H. Crawford (hazeleyes at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Printed from https://shop.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1767726-The-Wedding-Day