Rachael Desdemona

Rachael Desdemona.

That freak who never got a chance.

She was a lost cause

When I met her.

But I knew her.

She was anything but a freak.


Naturally, she was unlike the others.

That's why they screamed, "Freak!"

She was unlike anything

They could possibly imagine

Or begin to handle.

So they shot her down;

Put her below themselves.

They could not handle someone

Who was better than they were.


I heard what they call her.





She's anything but.


In a crowd of her peers,

She was the rose that sprang up

From a tangle of weeds.

So beautiful,

So captivating.

But, the weeds became jealous.

They choked out everything

That made her so beautiful.

And then they left behind

A corpse, a shell.


All of those girls who scowled at her,

Stepped away and whispered,

Did not realize how lost they were.

They long ago became a crowd of robots,

All plastered with makeup,

Their skin looking like a painting

That needs hours to dry.

Everything about them was so fake.


But Rachael Desdemona

Pushed against the crowd.

She never let them change her

Natural beauty,

Even while they crushed her spirits

Day in and day out.

No, Rachael Desdemona

Remained strong

For as long as she could.