The Face of Grace

A  lone pretty Cherokee face
native but alone in the city of The Whitest Men
She knows only a few words of Modern's English
Orphan of the Country
The last Tribe has been vanquished some time ago

GRACE

She is known by that now(her birth Name forever unknown)
Hitchhiking from city to city,mile after mile,highway after highway
The hours from dawn to dusk,she is walking along
without a want or a need for duty or Blood's Lust
Shining everyday in the the Pit of Life,gone so astray

THE FACE

Lighting up every corner and section of the Western Sky
From time to time,she will stop to pause and begin to cry
Tears silently fall from this Majesty's Face
Open up her Indian Beauty to sketch the world with just a trace
It is the most innocent of all the Innocence left in this Time

I hope to acquire about her when she stops near the Boston Common
Copyright © | Year Posted 2007

Poem

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