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Thursday
August 28, 2014
1:06am EDT


Rated: E | Poetry | Personal | #1852905
A girl who doesn't know where she fits in finds home.
She knew no one liked her,
They all called her weird.
She tried to hide her feelings,
But still she would cry.
She cried every night alone in her room.
Shedding tears until her eyes,
became dry as the desert sand.

She awoken from a dreamless sleep.
To see the sun that just risen.
His rays shining so all could see his light.

She went to town as if everything was fine.
Hoping no one would see the injustice they have caused.
She wanted the pain all to herself.
So no one could feel the misery except her.

She looked all around town,
hoping to see a friendly smile.
She could see none,
except for the devilish faces looking down upon her.

Finally night came as she sat on the bed.
Wishing things could change.
She heard a woman's voice calling her name.
She looked all around the room,
but found no one there.
She looked out the window and saw the moon.
The moon was dressed in a silvery light.
The moonbeams begging her to follow them.
She aroused from bed.
Chasing after the beams,
as if she was a cat chasing a after the ribbon.

The beams took her to a hill.
Where a woman sat on a rock.
Dressed in a moonlit glow.
She beckoned the girl to sit with her.
She told the girl she knew her story.
And that she was here to take her away.
Back home to the moon,
Where she belongs.
For that mysterious women was her mother.

When the townspeople woke.
They found that the weird girl was gone.
They looked all around,
but no one could find her,
All they had to do,
Was look at the moon to realize that she was there.
That she finally found home.
© Copyright 2012 Arista Nightingale (UN: poisonrose6267 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Arista Nightingale has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.
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