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Rated: E · Poetry · Personal · #614711
a poem about what happens behind the closed doors.
She wandered alone across a barren place.
Plucking at grass, looking into space.
She wet her hands with emotionless tears,
She quieted all but her screaming fears.
After burrying her head deep in the bed,
She yelled so no one heard or saw a tear shed.
With red eyes and red cheeks, she looked away.
It was not time to be that sun, that ray.
She wanders so slowly down the stairs,
Looking and wondering why anyone cares.
What has she done today?
What has she done but scream and hide away?
Where does the time go, what happened to being young?
Isn't it shining and pretty with an acid tongue?
Then why does she look in the mirror?
Why, when it only fills her with horror?
There was nothing to do, no place to hide.
She was alone but passed through to the other side.
The other side was pleasant, she thought.
It was lovely with the warmth it brought.
The world could be fine when the going was clear.
It was comforting to think it was always so near.
When she needed to feel something she would leave.
But until then she was conent to believe,
If only in her small little room,
Where she could scream and could dream.
She wandered longer across a barren place.
She no longer felt she had missed her space,
Not because of a person or a thing.
It was night and she liked the darkness it could bring.
Many years passed as she wandered alone,
Eyes full of hope and heart full of stone.
The walls closed in as she closed her eyes,
She wandered away to the stars in the skies.
© Copyright 2003 Cara Derwyn (caraderwyn at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/614711-Wanderer