I'd like to meet:
Maya Angelou, EAP, Emily Dickenson are on my top 3 list.
..::[dust]::..
The rotting carcass turns to dust,
It spent very little time here.
He died 2 years, 2 months, 2 days
after Timmy took his first breath.
The poor little carcass beaten
No remnant but a bloody pulp,
The rotting carcass turns to dust.
He's covered with bruises night dark,
Is this the life he was to live?
Perhaps he is better off dead.
The rotting carcass turns to dust,
Be glad, he's well cared for now.
Running, and playing like a child,
Laughing and giggling all day long.
Though his killer is free today;
The rotting carcass turns to dust.
© Beth Claybourne
..:[The Anaconda]:..
The great anaconda toys with its prey,
Much like a controlling man does today
Under the cloak of love, honor, obey,
For this breed of man knows not respect,
And he's the one to show a heart neglect
And a woman's soul utter disrespect,
Tearing her down 'til she feels like nothing,
For he is always nit picking something.
The anaconda strangles its victim,
The possessive man keeps her close to him,
And in public she cannot show a grin,
As he'll accuse her of going astray.
In her mind she has no choice but to stay,
Praying someone will rescue her some day.
She feels trapped in her life of slavery,
The strong anaconda won't set her free.
The anaconda drains his victim's life,
As the controlling husband does his wife,
Until one day she takes back her own life,
Fighting against her invisible chains.
"I'm finally free from you," she exclaims
Carrying her bag through torrential rains.
The great anaconda has lost its might,
As the wife vanishes into the night.
© Beth Claybourne