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Rated: E · Poetry · Drama · #2205093
Lost children finding their place in the world


Her words were bane;
Thoughts are spoken out loud;
Running off, cursing her birth.
What extrication, emancipation,
Was left?

Who had prepared her for life?

She had matured;
There is no more reinstatements;
There is no security.
In her youth she was vulnerable;
Not anymore.
Balm, ointment,
Give her salve for healing;
Set her free.

Christ knocks on her door.

Janice Bumbalough Marler
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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/2205093