A view of a different world,
Was what she possessed.
Even if the world around her,
Was crumbling due to wretched wickedness.
Tragedy, heartbreak and inconsistency,
She had faced,
At a mere age of 23.
Brought down by people,
Pelted at by stones was she.
Mean was the world to her,
Little did they know how precious was she.
A broken heart,
Or maybe two?
But what was it compared to the death of a dear son,
Whom she bore in her womb at 22.
Taking it in stride, she faced the world,
Armed with love and felicitations,
All she asked for was a little change in the world.
A little change in the world,
She was dying to see.
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Forlorn Mortality
PoetryMy own personal blog, including my insights and views about life, death and everything that comes in between.