Mrs Smith

A pale face, dark eyes, an uneasy smile,

Surrounded by a mass of tangly black curls,

She sat in that circle

Unengaged, aloof, disruptive,

There for everyone else’s sake

But her own.

Trapped in a world by demons who

Would let her see another way

But kept her from it because

It wouldn’t serve their obsessive needs.

Within screaming distance but held behind thick glass,

Visible but achingly unreachable.


And now she appears, life

Shining from her eyes.

A purpose in her movement

An energy no longer nervous or restrained.

An arrogant addiction now replaced

By an enthusiastic vulnerability.

The tangle of curls now worn up

To frame a new maturity.

She sits in the circle for her own sake now

Proving to everyone else that she is worthy,

Meeting life bravely while hearts around her

Now swell with inspiration.


◄ Solid Ground

Easy Fix ►


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