Her hair a cage,
where once she raged.
But now the empty stare, just fills her days
and as i stare to this mile long gaze
my thoughts begin to say.
I wonder is there a word to clear the haze,
that could make you stay
and weather this storm that made you stray.
Or could bring you back, to where you onced played.
But i know hope, just as deadly as a blade
so i cast, a silent goodbye to your stage
and upon my last turn, see you fade,
for today, it was the poet who failed upon the word.
On the train, to see an old friend, i saw this lady on the train and just wrote this quickly from what i felt
Drawing by Dust
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