Standing on the balcony square,
I watched the August moon,
Its gleaming light so fair,
And I knew I would be leaving
Barefoot, daring, swathed in fine lace,
Like a midsummer rose shrouded with grace.
How simple it had been to be youthful and blind,
Pulled around, strung like a marionette,
Thoughts of the outside world far from my mind.
“Listen to us, listen”, they said, “and you will never regret”.
But in the folds of a ribbon red rose,
I glimpsed once again a life beyond the end of my nose.
Indeed, it was easy to forget.
In the whirlwind of life, losing my sight,
Of the small and unnoticed; beautiful and contrite.
Clad in gleaming boots of night black leather,
I tiptoed one foot out the door, then two.
My soul soared as light as summer heather,
Returning to the world I knew.
Without another glance at my incarcerating abode,
Then, I set my boot on that beautiful
Terrifying hard black road.