of asylums and a psychiatrist
encouraged her to write her feelings
with poetry to save her life.
Always with a cigarette in hand
this alluring brunette won the Pulitzer Prize
and drunk martinis with Sylvia Plath
yet never left the suicidal path
carrying "kill pills" in her handbag.
Anne was jealous that Sylvia
committed suicide first; the world of
troubled poets is a stange place indeed!
But one day after lunch with a friend
she donned her mother's old fur coat,
sat in her car, turned the ignition key,
the demons departed...her soul was set free.