Innocent Mary

Innocent Mary stepped out of

the house to see 

the wedding procession

where trumpets and bugles

locked horns

And people clamoured for

attention, on behalf of the 

newly weds.

Innocent Mary thought this 

as a perfect time

to getaway through the balcony.

The rent was paid 

Cat was fed 

Bag was packed

And no one cared.

Innocent Mary left her

pretentious coat on the stand

and packed some cookies

and stealthily crept 

through the balcony

where no Romeo waited.

There was only Mary

and she was not innocent.

She made her way through 

the old street of people

whom she thought she knew.

She was the prisoner of their

weddings and braggings

and draggings.

She was choked by their

rules and pompous 

dressings and pressings.

They made the innocent Mary

out of the gullible Mary,

She wore the fake laugh 

and spurious concernity

all the years.

They are captors

Of her actual feelings,

something that she figured lately,

something that she felt common,

Until the merchant from East 

sang that song of free people.

As Mary ran in her peasant dress

through the old pathways,

with bruises on leg,

several ordinary flaws

threw their shackles

which made their way to the

rooms of young women

of the village.

Leaving her counterfeit behind,

Mary clasped the world

of weaving prose 

and screaming poets,

Of pottery and art and 

hallucinated People,

To unspool the ordinary flaws.

A.C