Wrapped in Plain - Battle Of Mice

She walked

Her head hung down

Watching her feet

Move on their own

Restless hands

Grasped at things

No one else could see

Dark circles watch

As eyes grow wide

Guardians of her gaze

A high red flush

Of something wrong

Stained the hills of her face

Midsummer blazed

Her rotting cage

Death took his hat off

At the grave

The scarecrows drape the colored page

Marking giant mistakes

Getting stronger in pain of

These special things

All wrapped in plain

And no one saw

Pale shoulders shake

Passed over for

Shinier things

For brighter birds

With bigger wings

Take up all of the cracks

Nothing left for the faint

This poisoned mouse

With paws on stars

Mottled gray fur

Ignored

She quickly dreams of fall

Where brighter flowers dive

And bend

Quicksand’s

Right hand

Weighs in

Low weathers

Greatest friend

Wet breath in shallow lungs

That drown

Quick hands

Like doves

The scarecrows drape

The colored page

Gaping selfish mistakes

Grinning wider each day

Growing stronger in pains

Of these special things

All wrapped up in plain

An imbeciles glory day

Spitting coins at the fade

Of these special things

Twilight final soft claim

All wrapped up in plain

All wrapped up in plain

These special things