Her soul caught mine in seven minutes time
while we stood discussing sunlight, God and
galaxies. Why she stays in my mind I’m
not sure…she sees worlds in a grain of sand.
Two bronze-brown plaits, deep ebony eyes,
smooth skin, black but light, like cafe-au-lait.
Twelve years – almost too young to look so wise,
now locked in here, barely given a say.
Dozens of empty shells wander these halls,
hiding the cuts they’ve carved in their skin,
fighting off voices and punching the walls,
searching for peace to once again begin.
My one hope is that she escapes in time,
before her soul falls for the pantomime.