Don't Should on Me.
Soon as she opened them
There was a weight upon her eyes
Her friend, the woman,
Remaining in her thoughts
Repeated mantras…always mantras
Stolen on the wing.
And when the friend , the woman said
That Krissy ‘Should’..
The air cemented in…and clouds of stone
Hung solid in the distance of the day.
And ever falling leaves like shattered
Glass lay on the ground.
Her friend, the woman said….
You Should beware of the advancing years
And take more care.
Smooth anti wrinkle cream for skin
….your hair needed colouring…
Oh ancient Goddesses of Light
Oh Hera in your suffering.
Is this sagacity ?
Are Artists celebrated for such things ?
Is that fine Bard of Stratford Town
Remembered for his lovely grin ?
Picasso , Keats or Chopin
Hailed for charming hair or skin ?
Are Blake or Turner known for staying
Young or slim ?
Should Constable have thought of that
Or Rembrandt worn a different hat ?
Where is the Opera… ‘ The Gloria of Should ’ ?
The sound of ‘ Should ’ on violins ?
The colour…’ should ‘ is never seen
Because it never could !
Krissy’s thoughts grew darker still
And thundered thru’ her blood.
Why Should she Should ?
Because her friend the woman said
She Should ?
Krissy knew….she never would !
Kristine Byrne
14th July 2014
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