Tales of Bette: Black, White, Red
Bette Wheelan takes a journey
Black pinstripe suit, silk tie, never before.
Sharp hat, cane, white rose, brand new in splendor.
A ghost, facade, somehow his smile well-known.
Shocked, pale, stirring, my feet turned to stone.
He's familiar, yet somehow a stranger.
Tall, broad, to anyone else a danger.
Then came his strong scent: robust and refined.
A split second I was mute, deaf, and blind.
He spoke, freeing me from prison of harm.
He smirked, tipped his hat, and offered his arm.
Hypnotized, lost, the moment replayed and passed.
This stranger, friend, a man purely outclassed.
In the moment crested, that moment I grew.
Young lady no longer, a woman anew.
But then I ran and the moment was gone.
Fate made the choice for me, it was not wrong.
I replayed the moment of the man in black.
End it differently or take it back?
Never. I made my choice, destiny lead.
The man in black brought me to one in red.
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