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Aug 2015
The pain wasn't evident
When you queued;
Nor discernible
When you extended a hand.
Your frayed coat needed attention,
Your legs bowed in the wrong direction
As you moved, frog-like.
I never recognized the shame
Behind ribbons you wore;
An imperceptible guilt
For lack of control.
But your eyes,
Downcast or averted,
Tried hiding the despondency
I once witnessed
In a naked girl,
Running,
On fire.
Francie Lynch
Written by
Francie Lynch
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