Nothing to bring back the lost innocence,
or take away the pain from torments and humiliations
demanded of the child so young.
She smacked happiness away with both hands
and all of her might, never realized what she did.
She made promises and ran after dreams.
Didn’t believe in her own beauty, though,
the fellows of her generation, the Rat Pack age,
called her Nevada Red and gave her opportunities
no plain Jane was ever offered.
She fought herself daily with
cigarettes, alcohol, hair color, clothes and shoes,
temporary fixes that did not fix.
Plans and schemes to win a life
like in the movies and books.
She unleashed fury on anyone she viewed as a threat, anyone.
She couldn’t keep any of the things she regarded as happy prizes.
No possessions, jobs, lovers, her sweet mother, even her children,
she loved and despised at the same time.
Bad health and old age have caught up to her.
She is no longer the hard ass she was.
Regret, lost love and dreams torment her
as she withers in the lonely chair
she fought so hard to win.