There's a mirror in the bedroom
in it stands a dying girl
fading now, her skin transparent
pale beneath her crimson curls.

Standing there beneath her heartbreak
weighted down by the love of man,
enchanted by her slowing heartbeat,
love lies bleeding in her hand.

Deep inside she holds a secret,
words that form a heavy cross
with brittle spine it's weight she carries
fearing judgement, feeling lost.

There's a mirror in the bedroom
at my broken self I stare
shaking now, I'll start erasing
till I am no longer there.

What can I do, to stop the violence in the Streets?  What can I do,  to stop seeing dead bodies at my feet?
What can I do, to show there is a better way?  What can I do, to teach people how to pray?
What can I do, to teach the young how to read?  What can I do, to make sure good comes from my seeds?
What can I do, to allow my light to shine?  What can I do, to rescue the young in time?
By, Author & Poet, Sandra Juanita Nailing

Newbury
Strum chords
Very urban

Man
Hair in bun
Guitar
Strum strum


music stops
Forehead creases

I have to go now.
Says Into microphone