Hurt

She sits and stares around the room
No noise then to be made
No debtor sitting at the breakfast table
Or urging her to train

Alone she was in a house not hers
She felt a gypsy again
But there she could no more return
That home was now buried

She stared at her costume the debtor made
It now was stained in death
Yet it now held the only life
She had left to her

Over and over she heard the Flights words
Of lies and summons back
She saw his grinning face and the
Falling body of debtor

She stood up straight and grabbed the clothes
She'd made this choice already
She'd push and shove with all her might
Until her life was spent.


Next Week: Collaboration