Thursday, August 4, 2011

Day 348, who is she

She walks in a maze
Turn after turn looking
For an out, an ending

Dutiful and patient
She turns around
Starts again, always lost
But knowing right where she is

She is the epitome of
Modern woman, she has accepted
The twist and turns as her fate

Her secret...
She wants to be found
Saved, she hates the maze

She has this distant idea that
She was someone else before the maze
That that girl would know the way
She is certain there is an end to the maze
At least she needs to believe there is

She wanders, turns, prays, cries
Uses the soft green leaves for shade
Sheltered in her prison of what will be
Of a proper ending.

She hears the tinkling laughter of happy
Children outside the walls
She wants to laugh like that
Be with them, she stands still
Listens. Knows. There is no maze.

She has simply turned her life to walls
Ways to define and protect the insides
Of her being because

Outside the walls, outside the shade there is no shelter
No guarantees.

She knows. But she does not move.

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