She is hard to see, as you try assessing her in the light.                                                      

She is not what any one expects;

She is mysterious gracefully.                                                                                      

She shows me what is right

 

She has written letters complaining about the whole world.                                               

Like any cliche you'd care to mention, she says,

“People who would believe anything you tell them                                                          

Seem to be dreaming of unreasonable perfectionism".

 

She has bad memories of something that shouldn't have happened.                                   

And everything she sees is strongly unbelievable.       

She has both brains and beauty, and a lot of clouded memories.

 

The people who really count often speak of accepting all apologies,                                        

As a gift to herself; without questioning why;     

Saying it's the 'Dance of History'.    

She doesn't know what difference that makes.

 

She was very promising as a child, so don't insult her imagination.                                        

Admire her for her valuable experiences,   

That are whirling across the collective unconscious;

The ones that didn't grow into anything resembling maturity.                                             

Only dangerous visions.

 

She anticipates the end of a few moments of thought,                                                      

But there are still some unanswered questions.  

She hasn't yet been damaged by knowledge of the future,

Although this has institutionalized the final dream.                                  

 

She doesn't suffer fools gladly and no one would have guessed that.                                  

She pretends that things are not the way they are.             

It's too unreal she tells herself           

As if history meant nothing and it tricks her again.

 

It all makes sense in the society of genius',                                                                        

And her future doesn't matter, since she had no common sense,

And she is now smarter than she was…

Know that it's the journey that matters, not the destination,

This has been a change for the better, they believe.

 

Now she walks where she'll always be a stranger,

For she feels this is the best of all worlds.

But even you know that's not true.       

 

And it's obvious that the things we fear the most,

Will be theirs until we die.

She does believe in magic…

But you've known that all along.

         

 

 

 ~Yvonne Renee Moore