Lucy says “Heyy”
As she walks in the door
With a light in her eyes
And her eyes on the floor.
She’s looking for victims
That she can make smile
For she’s also not had
Such a grin for a while.
Lucy’s confused;
She’s alone in the crowd,
Her world always quiet,
Her mind always loud.
She hasn’t found love
In a box on a shelf
But she’s never been told
To bring joy to herself,
And so she goes hunting
A surrogate soul
And she uses her vigor
To make her prey whole,
To make someone laugh
And to make a face gleam
Like the paint on her visage
She hopes makes her seem.
Some think her a clown;
Some think her a doll.
What she fears is being
Not thought of at all,
To be seen as convenient,
Someone’s future “his.”
She fears being seen as
What she fears she is.
She’s found her next target!
She gives them her charm
With a flower in her hair
And the game on her arm,
One of the next many
Whose lives she will brighten,
Whose fears she’ll erase
And whose burdens she’ll lighten.
Someday she’ll look up
And she’ll see the sun set
And her mind will be calm
And her needs will be met;
She’ll live as she dreams
When she comes to someday.
Until then she’ll walk in
And tell someone, “Heyy.”
The Daily Travesty 