Sunday, 7 April 2013

In a sunlit woodland

I have a picture
of a girl
where she hangs in the breeze,
for someone to notice.

But the feet
they tread past and
their eyes don't wander,
not from the path.

(It's not their fault they have
hardened their hearts.)

Life's lessons
too painful to assimilate,
a girl with their face,
my beautiful picture.

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