She’s no Saint
Crumpled and discarded,
Cast aside like a piece of trash
Hair disarrayed and tattered,
Clothes over-sized, secured with a sash.
Insignificance illuminates from the eyes deep inside dark
holes,
Her lips curl over yellowing teeth, searching for souls.
Thunder cracks overhead causing her to shudder;
Recollecting memories of being left behind, by her mother.
She shrugs it off, for there’s work to be done
A new day of reckoning has finally begun.
Things of the past have been laid to rest
Voices in her head urge it’s for the best.
As rain pelts her face and stings her cheek
She struggles to take cover, but her legs are weak.
What became of her life she wonders?
While rain pours down and the sky above thunders.
Over the rainbow someday she’ll be,
Away from the drama and hagiology.