O Muse of my heart, weave a song through me of the young woman of many places,
The girl who brought to the advanced world dreams of another land.
Guilty only of memories of a better time was she.
In Claremont in the New World she stared freshman year in the face,
Scared of seeing former friends bygone, of classmates in whose minds have forgot.
A schedule given and her path of life was written.
A closed heart she kept with secrets buried in an unfathomable depth,
Almost more introverted than in years gone by,
The true feelings of the young woman of many places masked by an outer facade.
Following what life set out for her: early mornings and overscheduled days,
Waking up before the rainbow colored dawn lit up the sky, time and time again,
Almost shattering into little pieces: the tension mounting up incessantly.
History made her who she is and using that she has stepped onto the path of life.
An earthquake upsets the memories of a happy childhood,
The fear of another and the pain of losing friends fastens her heart,
Waiting until the day she can unlock it and face the world again.