The Unknown Woman
I see a woman walk down the street,
her story yet to be told,
I tell you now to take a seat,
as her tale I unfold.
One look at this woman, your eyes deceive you,
mangled hair, sloppy clothes, extra pounds,
wrinkled face, tired eyes, but you must look through,
what you find inside will astound.
This woman only half her life, she's spent,
but so much from her past,
caused her so much torment,
her whole being as if made of glass.
Once a little girl, whose parents didn't care,
that she was being tortured,
by those other children, who would point and stare,
in that cold, and foggy apple orchard.
As she continued to grow older,
the fun and games didn't stop,
she merely longed for someone to hold her,
off the face of the earth she wished she'd drop.
She barely graduated high school,
in which she ate lunch alone,
her grades kept dropping, always thought as a fool,
on graduation day she was still unknown.
She spent her early 20's, working,
no family, or friends to go home to,
her mouth, never to smile, always smirking,
her eyes no longer crystal blue.
Eventually she met a man,
who promised her the world,
a life with him would be her plan,
she would give this a whirl.
As time passed they eloped,
one by one, a baby she had,
this would be a good life, she hoped,
but she was blind to things turning bad.
He started coming home drunk,
and spent all their money,
on prostitutes, alcohol, and useless junk,
all the while she loved him, and stood by her honey.
When she became his punching bag,
she would make up any excuse,
as if he spoke and she were gagged,
as people asked where she got the bruise.
To afraid to leave that place,
her children were witness to the abuse,
and her eyes darkened to a blank space,
as more things, besides fists, he'd use.
Her life drawn now, to just being,
no hope, no trust, no love, no grace,
this is what was meant of her, she was believing,
just two black eyes, the make-up on her face.
As she turned to other men,
to find the attention she was seeking,
she learned her best friends were, paper and pen,
this became her only way of speaking.
With nowhere to flee,
she packed her things,
so her and her children could be free,
she took the money she could, to try to spread her wings.
From shelter to shelter they'd be,
this not the life she wanted for her kids,
but she began to plant the roots of her tree,
to lay down and give up, of herself she forbids.
Taking on more than one job,
to put her children through school,
her health and life was robbed,
she wondered why life was so cruel.
With her children grown and gone,
and families of their own,
from the world she became withdrawn,
as she remained, so alone.
The woman I see now,
walking down the street,
is thrown, by many, a crooked brow,
as she walks, with a slump, in defeat.
How you look at her,
your eyes still deceive,
and you really can't be sure,
just how much she must grieve.
You may not know these things, at a glance,
but what if it were your feet in those shoes,
and wanted someone to give you a chance,
now which option do you choose?
Do you look and stare,
like others do?
Or do you approach her, and show care,
and give her a minute, or even a few?
If you looked inside,
this broken body,
you'd see a daughter, a mother, and once a bride,
dwindled to nothing, who wants to be somebody.
A heart with much love to give,
arms filled with hugs,
someone who can forgive,
a listener, not a person who shrugs.
A smile left unseen,
someone needing a friend,
she likes coffee with caffiene,
and she will sit and drink it with you, til no end.
A heart of gold,
her mind a genious, in a sense,
your hand she will hold,
and be there in your defence.
But like so many others,
step by step, you walk passed her,
this be your given druthers,
her existance never in your mind, again, occur.
So she walks on,
so far beyond gone,
nothing left to kill.
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