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.
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Poet's Notes about The Poem
Comments about this poem (Dressed With Dust by Nadia Figueroa )
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
A Dream Within A Dream
Edgar Allan Poe
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
Walter de la Mare
(1873 - 1958)
(August 19, 1902 – May 19, 1971)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(27 July 1870 – 16 July 1953)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
- Still I Rise, Maya Angelou
- The Road Not Taken, Robert Frost
- If, Rudyard Kipling
- Phenomenal Woman, Maya Angelou
- I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings, Maya Angelou
- Daffodils, William Wordsworth
- Dreams, Langston Hughes
- Fire and Ice, Robert Frost
- All the World's a Stage, William Shakespeare
- Death is Nothing at All, Henry Scott Holland