The woman that passed my Mary\u2019s path
\ncame from the street.
\nWas part and parcel of stone.
\nA predator who betrayed
\nmy Mary\u2019s heart
\nand wore a sister\u2019s clothes.
\nShe cost a piece of Mary\u2019s soul,
\na piece of faith,
\nclothed in the coarse guise
\nof her hardened self.
\nAt once I knew her for
\nwhat she was.<\/p>\n
In Mary\u2019s world harps are strung
\nin heaven, all people being harps.
\nIn mine strings break, corrode,
\nwill not always hold a tune,
\nand must be found, born inchoate
\nof better stuff.
\nThis woman, out of tune,
\na screech, a dissidence,
\na friend who never was
\nor could be,
\nsadly passes Mary\u2019s path,
\nwith the infirmity
\nof iron turned to
\nrust.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
The woman that passed my Mary\u2019s path came from the street. Was part and parcel of stone. A predator who betrayed my Mary\u2019s heart and…<\/p>\n