Drama

she sits on the edge,

comfortably away from the fire,

safely out of the battle zone,

throwing round house punches,

taking cheap shots, hitting below

the belt whenever possible,

protecting her cynicism at all cost;

resting secure in cloaks of MFAs,

surrounded by sheets of academic nonsense,

staring down her preconceived nose,

at anything outside her ‘reformed’ mind,

jaded by the master, poisoned at a very

early age;

more than a childhood lost.

.

.