Emelda's Fearful Escape

A poem about the last woman I knew before the tires blew out.

She said she had been instructed;
Well schooled in the art of belief.
Wary and weary of menkind,
She wed a hapless gub'ment eunuch,
And found some partial fulfillment;
Found some scent of hidden danger.

 

She said she had met Emelda Marcos,
And had ushered her out of the palace.
By dark of night she had straddled the woman's bed,
All made-up and costumed like some terrible angel,
She escaped with Her Majesty through the humid night,
Precise orchestration by way of agency."

 

She said she was my sister,
And that she knew all about crystals.
"Be wary of those men in the rainbow shades,"
She said this as we were driving,
"They are always watching and waiting,
Hungry for some small slip-up."

 

She said that they had faked her death.
At three she had been removed and placed,
With a false mother who raise her up,
And then murdered here with operant magic.
There was the beaten body behind the bricks,
Along with other tell-tale signs.

 

Author's Note

Any feedback is welcome.

Reviews

[ChaoticSoul]

This is really interesting. I feel you could turn it into a short story based upon what you have here, since it already begins to tell a story. I enjoyed your word choices and the structure of this poem. It's very unique!