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.