Dressed With Dust
She wore a hot pink band-aid on her finger.
It covered the torn skin
That was clawed and bit,
But the little hands still trembled with insecurity.
The young eyes were red.
She wore a hood of shame over her head
And hoped no one would see her.
The little hands, a bit bigger now, still trembled.
Haunting laughter and harsh words kept the eyes red.
Now she wore a cape because she was a hero.
The hands weren’t fully grown and never would be,
But at least they didn’t tremble.
The eyes were hidden under their lids,
But they had no reason to be red,
Not in this beautiful silence.
A tragic, beautiful, permanent silence.
So everyone wore black
With trembling hands and red eyes.
Those harsh and haunting voices cried.
Yet, soon they all forgot,
And now she wears nothing but dust.
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Poet's Notes about The Poem
Comments about this poem (Dressed With Dust by Nadia Figueroa )
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
William Ernest Henley
- Chaos on 11-12-2007, Kyle Schlicher
- Withpout A White European Wife, One Cann.., Bijay Kant Dubey
- For Instance, Everything May Be Divisibl.., G.C. Waldrep
- A Bird Is A Desperate, G.C. Waldrep
- Area Of Dog, G.C. Waldrep
- Sonnet: Has the End Come?, Dr John Celes
- Time Is The Distance, Kyle Schlicher
- What is Performance, G.C. Waldrep
- What is a Soprano, G.C. Waldrep
- What Begins Bitterly Becomes Another Lov.., G.C. Waldrep