Battered Doll
A scarlet dress for blood spilt
ripped blouse for flesh marred.
Ladders in the stockings,
a rung for every blow landed.
Scuffed shoes from hard kicks
bruise gorged eyes permanently closed
Burning tears were scant warmth
against a chill from ugly ones
Lipstick smudges on her chin
to nullify all the beauty.
Of purest cream skin,
from days of feminine joy
telling once upon a time
there was an angle
but now a battered doll.