Narrative Poem based on Hannah G's paragraph

It starts out with black hair

and the whims of a spontaneous mind. 

Black hair is the hair of

enchanters

and mysteries.

It is the raven-dark locks

to which poets lend their

pen and ink. 

Spur-of-the-moment decision

of the girl who

has yet to learn to be a woman,

what it means to be mature and convey

the wisdom and knowledge of an age

far ahead of one’s own. 

The deed was done,

the girl of black tresses

with near-white skin

Modern Snow White,

Brush sweeps

first

against the pool of red

and then swipes across her lips,

to complete the redness required.

She walks out the door, into the

open

and unknown,

shying her eyes away

from the onlookers. 

Surely,

she thought,

they must be as shocked as I.