Journey to Hope

Never mind the consequences.

Her limbs

were cigarette thin,

afraid she would break

if I touched her.

Hair cut short,

just to the jaw line.

Straight, dirty blonde,

unwashed,

and probably crawling.

 

Under all that dirt,

and blood;

once perfect skin,

scarred too deep

and too often

for her age.

 

Watch her,

looking out the window,

as the world speeds by.

 

She doesn’t speak,

she doesn’t cry,

but there’s a look

in her blue eyes

that tells me,

she has seen Hell,

and knows the Devil,

personally.

 

This train we’re on

is taking her away

from what she has believed

was a short life,

and a painful death.

 

I have no words,

so, we both sit silent,

watching out the window,

as the world

speeds by.

 

 

HG – 2020

 

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