Water the Rain

There had never been a time when the water hadn’t flowed.

But there were voices that threatened her to bow and stay low.

When they see her, they ready their darts, bow with arrows.

To keep the peace she jammed herself between a rock and a hard place; so narrow.

She’d rather not be seen, though she was invisible anyway.

Over a bridge, face down was where she was found the following day.

Her family was contacted, and they had much to say.

One snickered, another boasted, “I knew she would do it. What could you expect from trash like her?”

She was only following a path that preceded her.

Her mother did it,

her father did it,

and her sister did it, in hopes of ending what was started.

A blighted life that never mattered.

©privatethoughtsmadepublic. 2016.

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