Poem

A lonely tear drop shed for words she cannot say. A whisper that missed it’s mark floating into the past. Unheard the words that can’t be said the thought’s that won’t be shed.

Tree’s make shadows on the roads she walks, a road less trod will be her way, and though they may not see she will be just she. Lonely though it may be she will find her way for if not to be heard it was said on that day.

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