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Poetry Contest Entry

Artist - Julius Garibaldi Melchers

The Perfect Stranger

~By Jane

She walked through purple-curtained rooms,
Peeking into cupboards, frowning -
Pathetic, to the point of being charming.
She charmed every one of them,
Like some amazingly clever joke,
And sat in their armchairs when they weren't looking.
"Regard me as you would a photo album," she said - and
She was
Precious, tedious,
Sticky in parts,
Full of memories and confusion
And embarrassment as well.
They misunderstood -
It was their way.
But what I heard,
And what she meant (but never said)
Was, "yes, and willing to be hidden away
Beneath the end table,
Only brought out for company and cleaning."
She was gentle, desperate even,
And no one else saw it.

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