Lily on the Table

Lily on the Table

A Poem by Shayla Sayer

she dances

immune to their stares

to the catcalls, the whistles

lily dances.

she smiles, even as

her tears leak through

forcefully closed eyelids

she acts like she's oblivious

but as each cloud begins to thunder

her dreams have no home.

but, then again,

neither does she.

lily on the table

or lily on the floor.

her world is fading, quickly

she's beautiful, but she'll never know it

for those in the chairs never show it.

they throw ones and insults

never enough to feed two.

her little girl watches

never judges with her all-seeing eyes

when she grows up

rose wants to be like momma

rose on the table

rose on the floor.

© 2011 Shayla Sayer

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How do we chose to value a woman beyond that of her natural ability to love and be a care giver. How many feel that when all else fail that they can always resort to dancing or using sexual behavior as a way to earn a living in a society that is suppose to be evolved? What do we teach little girls that they can be anything it sounds good in words until they grow up and see the world through the eyes of a non-equal. Powerful poetry bravo!

Posted 9 Years Ago

nice take on this weeks title! I never would have thought of something like this.

Posted 9 Years Ago

Shayla, you have captured the the true heart of dancers who are beautiful, yet for one reason or another, they have chosen the, seamy life of girls who dance in bars and strip joints. Men who view them as packaged merchandise to catcall, lure amd pay for lap dances, so they and their children have enough money to pay for necessities.
It's a sad reality when the money is too good to pass up, yet later in life they may live with many regrets for having done so. Mothers, who lure their own little girls into doing the same thing.
Beautifully and sensitively written with grace, sadness and the poignant reality of it all.

Posted 9 Years Ago

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4 Reviews
Added on May 4, 2011
Last Updated on May 4, 2011


Shayla Sayer
Shayla Sayer

Fontana, CA

i love to write. i have been penning down my feelings since i was 13. in my own opinion, writing is sort of like love and wine--it only gets better with age. more..


A Poem by Shayla Sayer