Downstream
She locked the doors,
and left the place,
where laughter had faded,
like old worn lace.
Another sunset,
has caught her eye,
a change much needed,
from worn out lies.
Nothing she took,
on that freedom day,
she left it all,
between walls of decay.
Her season of change,
took quiet some time,
but soon she will hear,
pitiful whimpers, and whines.
Deaf now her ears,
but her eyes now see,
the beauty of laughter,
waiting downstream.
Copyright © Christy Hardy | Year Posted 2009
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