David McLansky

Freshman - 716 Points (5/24/1944 / New York City)

Riff on Dr. Aggarwal's 'The Battered Wife.'


The pretty girl
With the battered face
Who swept the empty halls;
Her head bent low
In her disgrace
As she heard
My sharp footfalls;
When love can ball
And form a fist
And smash those fragile cheeks,
What love’s so weak
What heart’s so frail,
To bruise that skin so pale.

Submitted: Sunday, April 28, 2013
Edited: Tuesday, September 24, 2013

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