'jack.'

A baby girl
her right’s diminished
from the day she was born
to the world of debauchery,

no thorn incrusted crown,
lifelong poverty
to learn a mothers trade

dirty.

Incapable of life’s luxuries,
twist
turn tricks
to lose her mind,

she will never know
her rightful place.

Down dark alleys
pennies for time,
close her eyes for the gentleman,
the fruit dampens her lips
she cries,

slumped
with fading regret
never to be met
as she flies.

Time does ooze
from her slight frame
as the shadow calmly walks away:

Jack - my friend, my foe,
the trojan horse
bearing gifts,
one bite
she’s licked,
good of the crown.

The opium stench
of the crack house,
absinth
laudanum

the ether
smothers an ill crowd,
unbeknown to all around
with a cackle
a howl,
the surgeon leaves his mark.

One by one they fell
over time
delicately spliced,
missing parts for posterity,
to tease
indulge,
clown around
for the price of a grape..

cheap

you may think?
at this time
richer than you could ever imagine,
beyond her wildest dreams
pleasure..

innocence
torn
vulgar.

His whiplash smile
with a flash of silver,
bounces the moonlight as he severs:

controlled
adept
not a sound

the love of the crown.

Do you believe in happy endings?

that fairytale gleam of the silver screen

for one little girl i never known,
there is it would seem:

a distant land,
peace
sanctuary

to live her life,
not the one she deserved

of palace’s,
queen’s and prince’s,
her rightful place
upon the throne:

murdered

by high society
as she was born
to a working mother,
who had her mind taken
locked away
ne’er to be seen again.

But jack who are you now?
the irony
of your ill fated delusions,
your own mind

now gone.

Sacrificed

for queen and country.

The price of infamy.

© 2007 Michaela James.