Felt her pain

I noticed her tattoos

felt her pain

even the skull couldn’t cover

his name.

I’m told she became

a clown left in a dusty town

with a bag of broken dreams.

I noticed her eyes

how they appeared estranged

from life moving about

as though she would spend

an eternity on a half off rack.

I’m told an artist once tried

to paint upon her face a smile

but abandonment has just one

color, a letdown gray.

Her pain I felt

as though my own..