So many shows – I hear the audience applaud
Magic mirror, tell me what to do!
You can never satisfy it.
It only shows you the reflection
The image is reversed
Why have I stayed so long?
I thought I was healing – so self-righteous!
I thought I was a savior,
But all I did was wound
My heaven was my purgatory –
decked with deception and half-truths
And yet this set-up was Divine.
And now the jailor has a predicament
For my purpose is made clear to me,
and I am a woman on fire.
Poetry Copyright © 2019 – 2023 by Ena Whiteraven All rights reserved.