Her Weathered Hands

April 25, 2012
Her weathered hands
Wrap ‘round the pages
From which she reads
From which she’s come

Her solemn stare
Cannot fade
For she was made
A hardened one

The book soon slips
From weathered hands
And she relents
It has begun

Under the desk
Away from light
So cold a night
Was never won

So, on her knees
And in the dark
A hopeless thought
She waits for one





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