Power to privilege Hand to face The bruises slowly blossoming, spirals and stars on a canvas of white Heart to heart But the pieces don’t fit for the splinters are disintegrating into the dirt they rose from Trials and tribulations Converging upon one damsel, storybook tales fly out the window Who is there to hear her cry Play it up and mesh the details, for pity is contempt mashed with scorn Who is she kidding anyway, the trouble is all her own doing Truth to obscurity What is it all when the coffin lid closes Ashes to ashes Dust to dust…