Marie

she hopes to god that she'll never drink again
and she says she'll never let another man use her again
her cross rests on her chest with a stoic silence
she stands up straighter and wills the tears away from her cheeks

she's such a mystery
not as much mystical as she is intriguing
there's something about the way she carries herself that suggests defeat
but it suggests refusal to come to terms with her failure

she spends her free time knocking sense into everyone else
she worries about other people and makes sure they come first
at the end of the day, we watch her as she puts on her coat with her lips trembling
she smiles her goodbye, and then someone mutters, "Poor Marie..."

i don't think she's a Poor Marie
i think she's a wonderfully brave woman, and i know nothing about her
i don't know her sign, but she was married the day after her 21st birthday
now divorced, i wonder if she regrets the years spent with him...roger, is it? not sure.

so flings her cigarette a good five feet ahead and blows out the last of the smoke
i can see her mouth move as she says something about quitting
she walks right past the nicotine patches and smiles at me, asking me how i am
"i'll get by...save for the stupidity of the human race"

"don't let 'em bother you," she says, and smiles
for a "pushing fifty", she's defenitly beautiful
her smile is enough to reassure me that humanity is not all a lost cause
because marie lifts her head and goes back to doing what she hates...and she smiles