Each dawn brings new light,
new life.
Insight sighs
and resolutions fine.
How it cleans her naked form,
bed of sheets no longer warm,
just food for the worms in time.
Sun creeps into her eyes,
she can see herself in dawn’s light;
remembers dreaming of something more,
not an hour before.
She greets the morning, with a sad smile,
such a pretty face
that she herself denies.
If I were in her place,
surely I would die so slowly,
she changes her mind so lovely.
Washes out her eyes
with sunlight, dries the tears
upon her cheeks.
Feeling weak enough to speak
about the thoughts that tweak her mind
and trap her with these sad, sad eyes.
HG – 1995-2000