Poem: Her Sorcery – 13/08/21

Haunted are her eyes
above a winsome smile,
wistful character is she,
hoping for more
in a while.

Fallen by the wayside,
all her trickery,
her witchery,
her cosmetics,
her haberdashery.

By goodness what is told
beneath those furrowed brows?
Heavy times envisaged,
poignant moments told,
she loves to flicker
her eyes from the
land to the sea,
a calming peacefulness
takes over she.

Without her layers,
which peeled away
one by one,
she’s naked as the babe
she entered the world as,
all magic spells come undone,
without the falsity
of rare moments of rage,
she no longer finds herself
or others
disharmoniously caged.

For their prison was this –
requirements to abide by society,
she just wants to flow now,
rippling waves,
breathe, gasp freely,
ride the swells of less commotion,
battle away prior despair,
no longer a ‘witch’ but a
fair haired innocent maiden…

What was wrong with her sorcery?
She’d not ever know,
only condemned for being
different,
not lining up in
conforming rows,
her magic is what
she held pride in,
what made her so proud,
shriek and cackle
she wishes now,
to elaborate aloud.

They have changed her,
made her ‘pure’,
sootiness cast away,
undo, undo,
bring back the smudges,
the unsightly smears,
her darkness is, was, forthcoming,
can you feel it, dears?
There’s so much she has to say,
watch as the pretences fall away.

© 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
Photo by Tania Medina on Unsplash

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