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December 23, 2009
Cross-legged on the floor
With paint in your hair, you
Push the card down on those tablets,
White as ice

White as fear
Each fiber, single file, plowed into
Lines to draw out your
Soul as they dash up your nose
Row after four

Finally the dollar bill falls
Exhausted out of your hand,
Onto that tear soaked
Wood you rest upon.

Little girl, shrunken to the
World, shrouded by the
And the bold façade,
Little girls, when are you going to learn
That now’s your time to LIVE

And not to die?

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