Sparkle

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“Look at her sparkle” they whisper,

glancing sideways as she glides along

across the dance floor like a lit ruby

bursting with life in her sequinned dress.

 

“Look at her sparkle” they cackle

as she tackles conversation like an art

and masters comedy like  fishermen

master the fish, hook, line and sinker.

 

“Look at her sparkle” they jeer and jest

hoping to capture her light in their cruelty.

Like careless children catching fireflies

they strip away her wings and leave her naked.

 

They batter her with words, red dress rent

and her strength is gone, her words all spent.

Until finally she can sparkle no longer, dull

and defeated, one of them, or so they think.

I can see beyond the tired facade of falseness,

beneath the lies painted on to cover the cracks

and past the pleas for that light to shine again.

I simply point her to a mirror and whisper,

“Look how you glow! Look how you’ve lived life

and how you’ve learned livid lessons.

Look how you’ve loved and lost and lived.

Look how you have laughed till you cried.

Look at how you glow!”

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