Eyes will follow her as she walks
Into the little cozy coffee shop.
Tattoos and battered boots adorn
Her body weary from the war.
The battles won are no victory
For the girl that fights one every day.
Black clothing hanging from
Her frail appearing skeleton.
She wishes eyes would fall away
So she could have one peaceful day.
And so she sips her bitter cup
In the corner not looking up.
From the fringes of her gaze
Smiles shreds of hopeful rays.
She shivers and shakes it all away
And closes the door so none can stay.
Her unsteady fingers hastily pour
Another cup to blacken her soul.