The Locked Gates
She walks to the door of the inn
Her hands in her pockets, frozen
Through the ice and snow she trudges
To the gates of her home
But only to find them locked and her feet are slowly freezing
Her hands are unmovable
And she refuses to move for she is scared of death
Crying in her sleep at night in the snow, the girl, she has no home
Copyright © Elizabeth Cobb | Year Posted 2005
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