Strolling through the mall

Pacing to the swerve
of my body's sway,
I enter the fury
of a crowded hallway
with far too many rooms.
Searching for my lost companion,
maybe a few bargains,
and perhaps even a kind gesture.

Well, the clerks of Lane Bryant
keep pointing their fingers
at the exit sign,
as I walk past their store.
It appears I won't be buying
love and compassion from women today.

The old man sitting
at a nearby bench said,
Hey sweetheart
you can have this seat
right here by me.
So I sat next to his kindness,
then he flashed me his balls.

The pink boas and tiaras
sold at Claire's boutique,
only remind me
of the princess I will never be.
So I gather up my dreams
and exit the pastel shop
of my girlish fantasies.

The ladies in Arden B
own fake snobbish smiles,
they think their special
with those discounts on dis-quality.
I can't afford insincere glares
to take over the sparkle of me,
so I'm sailing off to the book stand.

The soft lights of Barnes and Noble
hand feed my insecurities,
a little peace and understanding
through black and white screams.
The words of literature comfort me
and I have no place to go,
I have found a ghostly home
among the soul of Edgar Allen Poe.