The Lady in Red

[tallonrk1]

She came down the stairs wearing a lavish, red dress—
So bright in color, like that of a fire truck.
Or maybe one of those juicy apples you see in commercials,
sparkling as the lights shine down upon their perfection,
and yet so fake.
Her lips accompanied the dress,
plastering on the same succulent hue of red,
as if all the blood in her body centered upon them—
beckoning a suitor.
She leaned towards me, and whispered in my ear
“Why are you so lonely, hun?
There’s plenty of fun to be had,
you just have to get out there and wing it.
You just have to get out there.”
Her dress swirled around her body as she began to turn away,
and that’s when I caught a glimpse of her eyes—
so solid and firm
that no one could see through them.
Like curtains closed and sealed tight
around a window that will never be opened.
As she walked away, I promised myself I would never be like
that lady in red.

[tallonrk1]

I'm dying for criticism here

[Hawkman]

I'm afraid what you have here is prose, not Poetry. If this were written out in paragraphs it would be more obvious that it was prose, but prose it is. You are spelling everything out - Telling as they say around here. Poetry is about suggesting, illustrating with hints of mood, leaving the audience free to read between the lines. It could be made into a reasonable piece of free verse by cutting extraneous words:

"She came down stairs, lavish in red--
bright, like a fire truck,
or maybe an apple
seen in a commercial,
light sparkling,
perfect and yet so fake."

Do you see what I'm getting at?

So take an axe to it and give it a bit of judicious pruning and you'll have a poem.

Live and be well - H

[tallonrk1]

Ah, good suggestion! Thank you

[Writing Penguin]

I chuckled at the firetruck comparison. It doesn't seem to be the intended tone, so I'm guessing you might want another comparison.

[tallonrk1]

Yeah haha, I changed it to just "fire" instead