"When we can no longer dream, we die" -Emma Goldman

Friday, October 23, 2009


Her face is beautiful
Her dress is beautiful
Her air is beautiful
and so horrible at the same time.
everything is justified
and ridiculed
and terribly objected-to
and horrible.
her love is sad
and pure
and true
and ridiculed
and terribly objected-to
but not horrible. no, this is true.
this is real.
for once everything about something is real and true and pure.
no spite, no hate. just love. for once. and, unfortunately, only once.
and she is judged.
and she judges. with no one telling her otherwise.
she has learned well, but not wise.
she has learned the ways of spite, not of truth and kindness.
she has been taught to hate and to ridicule and to win. never to lose and accept it.
pride has been her way, and that has been her downfall.

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