i can’t help but look at her skin
once clean, and full of life.
now its lost all its colour
covered in a thick layer of dust.
nobody has taken any care.

there are few who notice her changes,
and though those few try to communicate it
all they see is something fake,
an unrealistic cry for attention that simply isn’t needed.
she’s still beautiful. she’s not going to change.
or so they say.

i watch as she melts out of shape.
i see the smoke from their cigarettes curl around her,
turning her grey, slowly, slowly, but surely.
can’t they see she can’t move?

she’ll only get sicker and sicker.
who is to blame but the ones who made her this way?