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The Vision Vanessa May God bless you, Vanessa, and all your caustic prose. Bless your feathered boa, bless your fish-net hose. We haven't seen a painted face since the last ill-wind blew in. You're a fresh new voice in this staid place with your strange concept of sin. Vanessa, all the days before you showed up on the scene were blandly repetitious. gruel gray, low and lean. You've brought some color to this town, no easy task, 'tis true. You've shown the mirror to the clown though he thinks he looks at you. Vanessa, you're a puzzling lass with all your twists and turns. Sometimes you offer soothing balm, sometimes your touch just burns. Through all the poses that you've worn, in the visions that you've chose, most saw you as a painful thorn but you truly were a rose. |
This Poem was Critiqued By: Thomas Edward Wright On Date: 2005-11-26 12:25:19
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.82353
Sean-
A load of irony
ore we could use
more of around
hear.
tom