with the seeds already planted like that-
you can't begin to understand
what she's living for-
the roots falling burned by the sun-
the mystery and logic- both on the run-
and no one there to hold her hand-
she's stuck playing in the mud
and giving up her dreams-
time doesn't trade its cards that way-
doesn't wish to deal with rapes and misery, instead-
feeds upon her tears
and washes the shores- pieces of sands
that will be forever her footprints-
because her soul? her soul
will never live that journey- won't make it past 11-
not with that kinda future
already planted within her heart.
-a.
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