Fairy Tale

by soberflight

Image result for image of old woman or young woman

Her hands, unsteady, drew the lines

That sculpted lips of red.

Her eyes still saw her image smile

From the poster above her bed.


Her face, once smooth and pink with youth,

Was wrinkled, pale, and drawn

From years of pain-filled, sleepless nights

That tediously crept along.


Her eyes, now rheumy, had been clear

And saw a different life

That left no time for motherhood

Or the duties of a wife.


Oh, she’d been free to live the way

Many girls had dreamed,

Dancing, drinking, money flowed….

Nothing as it seemed.


She had been so elegant,

Long legs and waspish waist,

And men had fallen at her feet

Just begging for a taste.


Now, alone, her footsteps were

A solitary drone,

Tapping on her apartment floor

Or clicking on the stone.


Her vermilion lips, somewhat awry,

Cocked in rueful smile.

She’d had it all, and lost it all,

But, God, she still had style.