She stood, her hand on waist –
I looked at her with hunting eyes
And thinking of time waste.
A few miles my joy was in slaughter
Thinking of dreams she did slaughter.
Behind the music of what she had of greatness,
Was last torment she brought by
Slamming student’s dignity –
She broke the existing unity
Of many preserved hurt hearts of kindness.
She used words to stab and make you feel
Wrong while you are right,
All she had was position to stand in absent reality –
To retaliate; it’s story told in words other than being direct:
Many lost smile where she stands and talks –
She never makes you to accept your scent as flower –
She was about to change you.
She never makes you live reality.
Smile was scampering skirt to slamming dreams – she was nightmare.