She

Her hesitance, her sighs,

Her woes are nigh,

Gaze upon the open greens,

Wondering if the end justifies the means.

Standing before her responsibility,

The endless cycle, the ungraitfying continuity,

She tires herself endlessly,

Never uttering a word, moving silently.

The pain she bore, she could never tell,

Though life was good, she was unwell,

As the water runs through her feet,

Tears come after, rolling down her cheek.

Who could rescue her at this time?

There was no crisis, no cry of help, no crime,

All she could do was open her eyes,

Weep silently, the unheard cries.

Helplessly one stand afar,

Looking at her, scar upon scar,

The agony of doing nothing,

The shame ever haunting.

When will the spinning end?

When will the Up High help to send?

Still ever strifing there she stands,

Her strength, her will to carry on, I could never understand.

30th May, 2009

-Lordson-