lecie Bailey Jackson
These unpreditable inclinations, must we try to cope.
Stop! Stop! your sadness, forsake us no more.
We call upon you our lady of great hope.
Please pull back your dark wavy hair.
We see your wicked smile, an electric grind without a care.
Raise your lacy black vail and morn for us no more.
We know your cry of tears only followed by a frown.
Humble yourself before a mirror.
Your beauty well preserved deeply, eclipes us with your charm.