Digital publication | Page 28

The White Devil

By Spencer M.

There once lived a lady,

With tissue made of coal,

With skin made of bone,

With a heart made of stone,

With hooves instead of toes.

There once lived a lady,

Who had eyes red with paste,

Who lived in the past,

Who stretched the fabric of time,

but couldn’t make happiness last.

There once lived a lady,

Who, if there was danger, couldn’t help but to stare,

Was civil but never fair,

Who sprout horns instead of hair.

There once lived a lady,

Who would put on a cloak to catch the bus,

That manufactured a smile everyone could trust,

That lived among all of us.