Forty
She wanders in
At daybreak,
Beneath a
crying sky.
Her broken wings
Are tucked behind
Her,
Unable to fly.
Her hair is wet
And dripping,
Clinging to her
Back.
Her broken pride
Is held within
Her,
Knowing what it lacks.
Her eyes are hard
And haunted,
Not the same
That left.
Her broken soul
Lies shattered
Within her,
A great gaping cleft.
Her skin is pale
And freezing,
Like the moon
In the clouds above.
Her heart is
Cracked within her,
Hurting from
the lack of love.
She wanders in
At daybreak,
Beneath a
Crying sky.
Her broken wings
Are tucked behind
Her,
Unable to fly.