A form like a child,

appearing meek,

yet wild.

coiled within,

a body twinge with fear.

Not a word did she whisper,

no one to hear.

A captured spirit is feared the most,

Be there thy effort,

there is no growth.

Her anger trapped,

Forever entombed,

within her souls,

bleeding wounds.

wasting away.

No innocence lives.

Not her choice,

it was taken by him.

Only her secretive world,

and painful trails,

could reveal why,

she is just a form like a child,

Appearing meek,

yet wild.

Linda Booth

Please feel free to comment.


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