Escaping were tears from her eyes.
Vicious were the hurting pains heard from her cries.
Endless echoes of deep and hallow voices.
Leaning towards the sun and againsts quiet noises.
Young was her son who never spoke a word and would probably speak none.
Not a day that passes that she has not missed her man.

People talking behind her while showing smiles infront of her face.
As if they were not fools when the truth is that they're more of a disgrace.
Gestures are weaved into words when her hands are in waves.
Uncomf'table with what the world thinks but her heart remains pure and unraged.
Implosive thoughts of anger that she can never let out and explode.
Residing in fears of doubtful taunts and still she remains dauntless and composed.
In days when the rain never stopped pouring.
God lits up a light without her even knowing.
A brightly blaze that is called the golden sun.
No more shedding of tears for those past and broken pieces are again mended into one.