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.

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