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She
Her rags became her cage.
She was looking right through glasses with glassy eyes
To see her leafed tree of reality.
She remembered that she left her left cast silver glove
On the blank page of her future.
Her gloomy solitude caressed her rain of tears.
Her heart's strings were the strings of an abandoned violin.
Their vibrations were haunting her memories.
Her onyx glances tried to hide her mist.
Her sadness was so complete
That it completely slipped through her shy smile
To become visible to all the people around.
The jerry–rigged reality was poisoning her hopes
And crowded her thoughts to push them into illusions.
She was a simple child inside her clown body,
A soul so caged wanting to be liberated,
While her reality was wretchedly dancing her hopes.
She was wondering if somewhere, someone
Was thinking and dreaming of her.
She walked so lonely on her lonely life road
That nothing could change her fate
She wanted to let her hopes to float on the losing breeze.
poem
by
Marieta Maglas
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