If only the world weren't so big,
All these souls would pass by my
Door:

And through my window cruising
I see a magnolia flowered sorrow,
The kind with moon beam eyes
And darkens your heart when you
See it;

Why is she in pain,
All alone in the grey.....
She has a wall surrounding her
Until the last day of hope
And a turbulent river encircling her.

Ah, but her steps are like the dove's,
Tranquil,
For gentlemen's sake I have to offer my
Hand holding hers like fragile balloon
Set off in the air, getting too close
To the sun and the continuity of the light,
So bright, it might burst in my hand.

She only needs some money,
I tell her to get in,
I'll buy her a meal.
She enters with grief,
The kind like in this poem,
But from her gentle eyes
The nocturnal sense is born
And the stars with her eyes.
I am taken,
What sweetness in her voice,
She asks me for a lemonade
As something familiar to herself,
The longing she has missed.

Why doesn't she get off the streets,
What holds her here?
I see the shake in her arm,
The tiredness of her body,
But she does not want to be saved.

I know her goodness
Had more than a conversation within,
That a life wished for better dreams
Haunts like dawn and dusk,
Touching her like a ghost.

"I need my fix"

I giver her ten dollars.
What horrid reality she lives in,
She walks away,
Turns back and offers a sentiment,
" I needed this meal, and
Thanks for just being nice"

Her hope is barefoot and barren,
Who will save her life?
I only know soon I will
Be a voice, an echo in her soul.