The Tearful Woes of Carabelle

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
One day the name came out of nowhere, "Carabelle" I loved it. So I started building prose around it and now she's very real well at least to me. Depending who you talk to, Carabelle is me, just under a different name. Personally I let the readers be the judges, this short anthology (Four pieces), is about a girl who has seen to much, felt too much and has had enough....

Feedback and comments always appreciated.

Pax,
Tragedienne Belle Morte

Submitted: January 07, 2008

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Submitted: January 07, 2008

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The Simple Wish11/25/2005
-----------------------------------------
This is My Tragedy Theater,
My Ruin, My Plague, My needs,
that know no shame. My hands
that will not bring life, only loss
and pain. Me, Myself, and I. The
three faces of me, because this is
about me, what I am , and what
I have strived to be. Perfect doll,
the machine that can do everything,
emotionless yet warm, the contestant
of a battle that’s never won. The level
of failure I can attest, but I gave it my
all, I gave it my best. Still I feel nothing
has yet been achieved, with the exception
of my own downfall. All these questions
and yet no answers. Why do I do this to
myself? Isn’t life more than this? Don’t
I deserve better? Because I’ve given effort,
countless ways, sacrificed so much to gain
so little. But that is the choice that I made
and I accept every consequence. I just wish
I could know why I’m traveling the plains
of the unknown alone.
©2005

Ungraceful Swan 12/06/2005
---------------------------------------
Dearly Beloved, for that is the
meaning of my so called name. We
are gathered here today to say farewell
to our precious Cara Belle. An ugly duckling
who almost grew up to become the graceful swan.
 An unlucky woman with an even unluckier
fate. This is my body come run thru it with
a stake, this is my blood in these veins which runs
cold. My youthful soul grows old with many
hardships.
My heart was a village that was raised
to the ground. My soul was a cornucopia
filled with the bounties of joy, now timbered
with aches of pain. This desolation was brought
on not just by others but also myself. When
all good things came to an end.
 To seek the chameleon of change out of
selfishness and greed. Leaving everything
behind that was the disillusionment
of a perfect utopian world. This is the
farewell and the goodbye that I did not hope for.
But the Pied Piper is calling, and this
is my moment. Open ears have heard his tune.
I’m going, I’m following this song until it’s played
out. Somewhere, where the destination
is left unknown.
©2005


Time of My Life 12/07/2005
----------------------------------------
It’s all just a matter of time.
Time is everything, what
exactly is time? Limitless amounts
of light years paradoxes into one
fleeting moment. Where one moment
could change your life and those
involved around you. Life is precious
is it not? Or what we make of it becomes
therefore? Burning questions of an altered
mind. Genetically inbred, wasted intelligence
going slowly down the pitless drains. That is
the story of Cara Belle, wanton of selfish
desires. Life, what has it done for me? Did
I ask Life to bring me all this tragedy? These
unnamed actions which will not be uttered.
Did I ask life to bring to all those I love so much
pain? If life brings liberty then I ask for death.
Death to the tyranny, death to the hatred, death
to marauding dramatics. Just death to it all.
©2005

Why Did You? 12/10/2005
--------------------------------------
Why was I left standing? In a world
that is so cold. Why was I left standing
so alone? Why was I not remembered?
Why was I forgotten? Why was I not
worth anything?
Did I demand not enough? Did I not
push and shove? Did you not see me
fight for it? Did you not see me try
for it? Did you not see me weep and
bleed for it?
You said that you cared, You said
that you understood. You were full
of false promises, you misled the
hopes of your Cara Belle. Yet you knew
full well of the salvation I would be
denied.
Suffer thy wrath of the angry, embrace
thy womanly scorn. Accept the consequences
of what you’ve done. Created me and left me
to invisible wolves, turned your back on me
where I needed you more. There is nothing
left to say only the course for action..
God how I have come to loathe this world....
©2005

"Tearful Woesof Carabelle" by Tragedienne Belle Morte
©2005



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