Writing exercise #2

I see her through the years through the tears

Tender chest, willful eyes

Pudgy hands, pretty hair

Unsteady gait, curious mind

Brilliant with the promise

of exuberant wonderful life

The horizon laid before her parents

Hope upon hope

The air of privilege and prestige

Was filled with the stench

of decaying feces seeping through his flesh

Laid in his arms

He stroked her pretty hair

Filling her with the stench

of his rottenness

Eating her soul

Left with a gaping gasping wound

She railed against the endless pain

and against everything close

Like the beating sound of rain

The unyielding frantic pitch

Yielded only to death

I see her now through the years

Through her tears.

 

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