The scarecrows taunt
And the tin man flaunts,
While Lola swirls in her shiny, red shoes
And tries hard not to cry;
you see, they’re not real rubies.
Someone told her once
that she has to fight in the dark.
He wouldn’t be there for her,
So she stiffened her upper lip
And did pirouettes so furiously.
Her surroundings began to disappear.
She prayed that it would bring her to another
world or maybe make her fade away.
She grappled with reality
But the grains of time trickled painfully.
I was stuck in an aisle of the woods,
Trying not to get my candy apple shoes dirty.
Then the tin man toted his shiny exterior
And grinned at me, luring me to go over.
The scarecrows sneered at me
As if the sight was just too ugly.
You never.
Didn’t even try
to make amends
or to compensate.
Only feeding my insatiable rumble
with a gingerbread house filled with sweets
And watch as I tumble into the oven.
So thank you for teaching me
That love’s a commodity.
Bought with sugar hearts
And paid for with paper cuts.
But I’m only a child and that’s too stark.
So I’ll fly to the moon and its pockmarks
As I have always done.
It’s battered by your guilt.
