If every second,
Morning, noon and night,
Has dragged her that much closer to the ground,
Untouched by the purple hand of sleepless nights,
Fail to see the purpose
Of spending six fifty on lipstick
And putting on a new face every morning.
Every morning she washed her hair
She rolled in her curlers
She painted on her poppy red lipstick
And she put on her trousers.
She laced her white athletic shoes.
Though she had nothing athletic planned for that day.
And she treated every minute of her day
Like she had the clanking heels of a businesswoman
But all she did was watch her “programs”
And feed her scraggly cats
You only realize it when they are gone.
That the only sanity left in her was the repetition of self-readiment.
And you know what lingers the most? A regret I have because I wish I knew it sooner
She was worth the six fifty in lipstick
She was worth the trip to the nail salon
She was worth the time spent coloring her hair.
She was worth the effort. Every morning. She was so worth it.