Wicker Girl Poem by Vivienne Chen

A girl made of wicker,
Doused in straight ‘A’ fuel
Honors dangle around her neck,
Adorned with charcoal jewels

Her button eyes myopic,
With straw hands worn by work
A mouth sewn in a crossing stitch,
A voice never heard

Watch her burn, the wicker girl,
Burn out and die away
The flame so bright inside her head,
Doused by society’s game

So alive she had once been,
Her efforts not in vain
She blew too hard, she pushed too long,
The wicker caught aflame

No longer new, no longer good,
The fuse has run its course
So goodbye, wicker girl,
Your ashes will be dispersed.