Upon the breeze she hears them call

The muted cries from them all

The days gone past ,the days of grace

The days of joy from a far off place-

Whispers in the wind;the voices in her soul;

She cries internally yet is outwardly bold.

Within her heart she hears the cries

The battle is daily no matter how she tries

She is strong, she is uncertain, she is on fire

She keeps on to have what she desires.

The whispers and demons come from within

She will fight them until the bitter end

The battle scars remain, though some unseen

She will overcome because there is no one on which to lean

For she is all alone in this bitter world

This strong woman who was once a weak little girl.



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