That

109 26 16
                                    

As she slowly does my hair,
I feel her hands shiver in the air.

Her beautiful eyes always glazed.

Her smile always held the pain.

Inside that happy face,
Is a broken soul.
Slowly falling apart,
Too stubborn to let anyone know.

I hold her hand in mine.
Tell her 'It will be alright'

She wishes me a goodbye kiss.

And as I sit in the back seat of the bus
I think, to myself,

Will it be alright though?

I was only nine...

~~~~~~~~~

Free Fall [poetry] Where stories live. Discover now