by Tricia Marie Miel

tried to restrain her
in braided ribbons and pink lace
smile. every hair's in place
mind your manners
and so she hid her hands
behind her back. she'd been
chasing grasshoppers.

they see her as a china-doll
in a glass house
on a pedestal
but dolls don't have scraped knees
or bruised elbows
and she's more steel than porcelain.

ragamuffin girl.
maybe she'll grow out of it.

tried to socialize her
champagne and small talk
fluff and giggles
and so she let her mind take a small vacation
as she went through the motions
of crowd-pleasing.

they see her as a butterfly
charming and graceful
but butterflies don't fly back into their cocoons
preferring the company of solitary thoughts
to that of pseudo-civilized baboons.

antisocial girl.
maybe she'll grow out of it.

tried to educate her
in art, philosophy,literature, music
and so she took up
engineering, math,
and all subjects scientific.

tried to domesticate her
cooking, cleaning, general housekeeping
and so she took a wrench
and took apart the oven
because she'd rather be the handywoman than the maid.

contrary girl.
maybe she'll grow out of it.

she will.
when she stops breathing.


Posted on 04/25/2005
Copyright © 2022 Tricia Marie Miel

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Kyle Anne Kish on 04/25/05 at 05:05 AM

Tricia, a strong poem with a stron message. I DO like it.

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