07-04-2015, 06:36 AM
Hi,
So, this is a first edit of a not so good original! Couple of points before reading, there is no attempt to rhyme during this poem and the fourth stanza is intended to humanise hence the universal obvious statements. Hope this is better.
Revision
That woman with the long brown hair she wore a mask,
she painted her body in ink and slept during the day
At night she has to face an unwanted and risky task,
to meet and attend to the eager and lustful eyes of men
"It's a sin" I hear the religious fanatics shout,
It's as sinful as starting a fire to stay warm
"One year in prison" the law thunders disgusted,
the judge smashes his hammer and with it,
any chance of recovery she may have had
Maybe at home she's a mother of three,
could it be she's just trying to meet ends meet?
Or maybe she's got a drug habit and debts,
living in fear, with no cure for her illness
Either way persecution of the vulnerable,
only leads to societal and individual hardship
Success stunted by social prejudice and mass ignorance,
leaving only a social algorithm designed to mistreat
The disregard for her person and the truth beneath,
can only leave a hole where progress could've been
But when she gets hungry she starves,
and when she gets thirsty she withers
If she's cut her warm blood leaks out,
and her tears produce clear emotion
For those who have fallen victim to a system,
who treat the helpless as if they had a choice
Those who suffer social closure and exclusion,
life is but a vicious cycle with no release
Original
That woman with the long brown hair she wore a mask,
She painted her body in ink and slept during the day,
Waking at night black panther stalking the street lights
I heard she dabbled in the dark arts, sinless sinner,
As sinful as Adam and as lost and forgotten as Eve
misunderstood at night under siege she makes her way,
I heard when she gets hungry she starves,
And when she gets thirsty she shrivels
When she's cut she bleeds with humanity,
And when she cries her tears produce clear honesty
I heard that when we leave the house we wear masks,
And when we get home they begin to crack
So, this is a first edit of a not so good original! Couple of points before reading, there is no attempt to rhyme during this poem and the fourth stanza is intended to humanise hence the universal obvious statements. Hope this is better.
Revision
That woman with the long brown hair she wore a mask,
she painted her body in ink and slept during the day
At night she has to face an unwanted and risky task,
to meet and attend to the eager and lustful eyes of men
"It's a sin" I hear the religious fanatics shout,
It's as sinful as starting a fire to stay warm
"One year in prison" the law thunders disgusted,
the judge smashes his hammer and with it,
any chance of recovery she may have had
Maybe at home she's a mother of three,
could it be she's just trying to meet ends meet?
Or maybe she's got a drug habit and debts,
living in fear, with no cure for her illness
Either way persecution of the vulnerable,
only leads to societal and individual hardship
Success stunted by social prejudice and mass ignorance,
leaving only a social algorithm designed to mistreat
The disregard for her person and the truth beneath,
can only leave a hole where progress could've been
But when she gets hungry she starves,
and when she gets thirsty she withers
If she's cut her warm blood leaks out,
and her tears produce clear emotion
For those who have fallen victim to a system,
who treat the helpless as if they had a choice
Those who suffer social closure and exclusion,
life is but a vicious cycle with no release
Original
That woman with the long brown hair she wore a mask,
She painted her body in ink and slept during the day,
Waking at night black panther stalking the street lights
I heard she dabbled in the dark arts, sinless sinner,
As sinful as Adam and as lost and forgotten as Eve
misunderstood at night under siege she makes her way,
I heard when she gets hungry she starves,
And when she gets thirsty she shrivels
When she's cut she bleeds with humanity,
And when she cries her tears produce clear honesty
I heard that when we leave the house we wear masks,
And when we get home they begin to crack