smoke

She was told once,
A long time ago,
That smoke followed beauty;
As she sat and watched
It blow
Toward the other side of the fire.
Once,
She dreamed of being
The girl with the long blond locks
That flowed halfway to her waist,
And sultry eyes,
Instead of the girl
With the short brown crop
Who needed glasses.

So she changed
And became what others wanted.
Grew out her hair,
And got contacts,
And wore makeup,
And learned to look and act her part.

Until she saw
That inevitable truth,
And moved
Because the smoke was stinging her eyes.

-Melissa Lynn