Plastique

Sitting on the windowsill, she could see the massive House, with its azul swimming pool. Cool. These lawyers and bankers and doctors With their trophy wives taking dives, Into the drink. It made her think About the sick and the needy Outside of this Garden of Eden. People act so fake just to get others to appreciate The fact that mistakes are things they don’t make But no one’s really awake. She can’t understand why People don’t look outside and cry. You don’t need to look at the sky, Cause it’s pale like her pearl necklace Or her cream-colored cotton sundress. She’s gone. Done, Like a spent bullet From a smoking gun.