Monday, August 27, 2012

Young voice

Small in all the world she sits
Amid lost scraps so paper thin
To spin and twirl and weave a way
To bring them home

But tiny hands and weary eyes
look oft to seas and sunburnt skies
And roll with disbelief and woe
At calloused hearts

Perhaps her effort's stretched too thin
Her face pulled in a perma-grin
The world too big and she too small
To deal with all - all in all

They've lost their homes their lives their love
And she's no bigger than a glove
So now she'll cry and heave and sigh
And live her life another lie

I guess she'll ship off in the end
Or pass the torch around the bend

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