Gem

She sat near a pool of brownish waters. Perplexed by her own reflection. The wind tender on her hair, Tossing it eastward. Drying her imbrued face, From days of sobbing, Leaving dull lines that stretched From her pale eyes,down her haggard lion. She never wore a smile As brilliant as the sun. They only burn,her. Reawaking her tears From their subtle base Beneath her eyes. She considered them,a tragic representation of her life. She decked her face with cowardice. Never regretted,nor did she skedaddle from it, The lies she once told herself. They were now,dreams she woke up to,now and then. Expressionless,she sat, On cold dead grass. They sent chills to her bones. Her mind hovering through the empty space, That is her her own schema. And the world that lies beneath her bruised nose, Covered in blood and fear, The stench of terror, Quite familiar to her. They were like marks on her back. They stayed with you for a life time. Misery was something she owned. They burnt in her dark brown eyes. You could see their talons lashing restlessly, Drawing those who cared for a scare. The tears that flooded her garment Jog the memory of her own consciousness, That she still did feel something. Something painfully passionate. Something,realer than her fragile image. Those tears were reminders Reminding her,that she,can still think. Think of events that stole All the life she knew, Will ever know. She stood at the edge of destitute, As hard as it was, It brought her solace. Her hopes raise at the east, Settling west with the sun. She seeks no remedy, But an audience. An audience at least. ****DEDICATING THIS ONE TO POETDESTROYER.SHE IS THE REASON WHY IM HERE.ITS BEING A WHILE THOUGH...MISS IT ON HERE***