Pound of Dirt

Pound of Dirt

Yasmeen Dimachkie

When I was younger I had a loving and fun relationship with my father. As I grew older we began to drift apart and it was difficult for me to cope with our detachment.  Although we do love each other, it is challenging for him to show it and I easily confuse that with apathy. I wrote this poem in attempt to meditate my harsh feelings. The poem itself is the main focal point of the piece and the photos are meant to be a supplementary art to accompany the piece and help the reader visualize the poem.

There once was a girl with bows in her hair

and frilly socks on her feet.

Her life was a thrill and her father would kill

anyone who thought to hurt her.

 

The same girl grew and her hair was askew,

her face blemished, and her teeth in a brace.

Her life was harder, and her father wasn’t the same.

 

The girl now had breasts,

and skirts high above her knee.

Wavy long hair, that was as tangled as her life.

Her father was lost in his thoughts that weren’t of his daughter.

 

The girl was frail, lost, and morose.

She wore latex outfits that barely hid her treasures.

The father was engulfed in another and left his daughter behind.

 

The girl was no more, just a pound of dirt.

The bows and smile long gone.

The father clutched to bottles and pills to help dull the pain but little did he know the pain was here to stay.