Apr 8, 2023
Destiny
Her dress was a trail of tears.
Cascading down her spine;
Each tear caressing her red satin dress.
Dipped in grief and sorrow from the sweat shop workers;
Mourning for their voices to be heard for a drop of water as they made her dress.
The voices of the ancestors lost before the air of sacred words could be inhaled vibrating them into existence...
Hummmmm.
She stops, she listens;
She calls out to her lover.
No one answers back, she misses the call.
She turns and faces the cold dark sky ahead
Forever running from a past she cannot face.
