Polly’s Train of Thought

Polly’s thoughts run like a night train thriller, 

it’s the time that drives her crazy. 

Time spent on wasted kisses

time spent on unfulfilled wishes. 

A bottle of wine but only one glass, 

the mirror laughs; “I told you so”. 

So pride comes before a fall.  

Polly’s been pushed through glass 

she’s shattered 

as if those days never mattered.  

Crashlanded.  Smashed to pieces. 

All the king’s horses away at the races.  

Bin bags stuffed with dead flowers

 

and photographs of hollow laughter, 

for ever-after seemed to last 

no time at all.  Another shift 

behind drawn curtains wondering when happiness 

upped and vanished: it’s escaped 

and on the run down the mascara trail. 

True what she heard, alone in the dark, 

whispers full of talk talk talk. 

Malicious gossip 

about her miscarried marriage

and how the wheels 

came off that precious carriage, 

splintered to thousands of fragments; 

she’s fractured. Broken promises 

can’t be mended with Prozac glue.

Couplet fatigue; there’s cracks on the track. 

Scratch. The songs of romance have failed.

But she’s in another world; 

silent heart ache.  

Poor Polly: terminally derailed.

©2006 P.A.Levy

First published by  Aireings  10/04/09 - 21/06/09