"The Mirage"

 

David Chapman-artist

a distant shimmering

promising relief

from the desert of my uncertainties

my youth

sought your false oasis

thirsted for love and approval

only to falter

steps leaden by oppression

dropping to my knees

supplicant

to receive one-drop-of-hope

before shunning

Copyright 2019 Elizabeth Abrams Chapman

"You're Not What I Want"

You strut into my life, mirrors for your eyes.   

Bragging on your style and worth, all to cover lies.   

          You demand worship, attention thrown your way.   

          Staging life’s events, you’re an actor in a play.   

                    You’re not what I want, so I’m stepping away.   

                     You’re not what I want, so I’m leaving you today.

  

You take and take cruelly, all that I can give. 

  

Draining all my love from me, just so you can live.   

          You see no one else, feed only your dark needs.   

          Ignoring all the hearts you break with your selfish deeds.   
                     You're not what I want, so I'm stepping away.   
                     You're not what I want, so I'm leaving you today.   

You expect to hold the world’s blind devotion. 

  

Feigning love and care, your spirit lacks emotion.   

          You think I should thankfully kneel at your feet.   

          Allowing the abusive cycle to repeat.   

                     You’re not what I want, so I’m stepping away.   

                     You’re not what I want, so I’m leaving you today.   

Copyright 2011 Elizabeth Abrams Chapman

"is it real?"

is it real?   

the glowing smile in every photograph   

the arms thrown casually around your husband   

frame after frame   

the friendliness you casually offer to everyone   

the show of happiness you radiate in public   

is it real?   

the vanilla personality that never offends   

the perfect hair, make-up, and outfit   

the gym toned body that defies gravity   

the soccer Mom carpool     

is it real?   

the eyes that don’t shed tears of grief   

the temper that won’t explode   

the heart that can’t break   

the cool reflective surface that never ripples in a breeze   

is it real?   

the excuses for his infidelities   

the acceptance of abuse   

the tolerance for his cruel and belittling words   

the immaculate life with no imperfections   

is it real?  

 

Copyright 2011 Elizabeth Abrams Chapman