May 28, 2012
Her dress is ripped.
Her eyes are wild.
They don't know where she's been for the last while.
Her leggings are torn.
Her lipstick's smeared.
She smokes a cigarette.
She broke her mirror.
She walks down the road
on shaking feet.
Doesn't remember anything
Not even the beat.
She looks at the moon.
Admires the white.
No other sound, no other light.
Light hits the trees.
Cast shadows upon her face.
Instead of cowering, she'd rather embrace.
She lost her companion, long down the road.
He didn't take her hand.
She never slowed.
Her feet are getting tired.
Her back is in pain.
Her bag beats against her hip.
But she's not in vain.
She'll stop later down the road
Under a vibrant tree.
Listening to the sleeping world
As she tries to fall free
She's a wanderer, my love
A Wanderer

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