If They Could See Your Soul

Her name is Aunica, To some she is just another face In an ordinary place Another individual, of habit, manner, and style An elderly stout woman whose brown face Bares the stamp of her ethnicticity Amongst the hustle of others in a small café She is the quiet old lady whom labors away In a back room filled by the monotony of everyday Routines, her hands are coarse, yet strapping, Unto an average customer, she saunters about Replacing silverware and plates But goes virtually unnoticed by most Except for one, who sees beyond Weary eyes and a worn black apron For if only they could see your soul, There would be a cloud of sorrow And an ever present shadow of despair When cities in your homeland Serbia Violently collapsed due to prolonged warfare And conflicts, your heart plummeted to the bottom Of your being along with it, A city now converted into mounds of ash And ascending clouds of smoke Memories of a life, you once had Are now swept away aimlessly By a ruthless and non sympathetic wind Like those who executed their cruel tyranny Upon the remnants of your very foundation Through compassion and understanding I have acquired eyes that see You have opened up your home to me I have eaten in your presence And extended unto you an ear For many stories this woman Has shared, these tales I will hold For her, life has been truly cold So now it is known If they could see your soul, The fierce light of your courage Would be ever so blinding Your determination and inner strength Are akin to a lions roar And an aura whose mere presence Casts a vibration that is piercing To the casual eye you are just That simple woman whom carries A tray of plates and smiles Amid the conversations and Cigarette smoke, so for you I end appropriatley by emphasizing What has been said before IF THEY COULD SEE YOUR SOUL This poem is dedicated to all those have experienced the misfortune and loss due to war in some form or another, you will always be remembered.