Remember
Her
I
remember her energetic and soft graces:
She
saw the world through a clear, new glass;
one
without smudges or scratches to limit her view.
Through
her eyes, everyone was equal, all things had value;
no
matter how she looked through the glass, everything looked the same.
People
were people, age and race did not make a difference,
houses
were houses, size and location were not a concern,
Fun
was fun, there was no reason to have limitations.
But
each experience left a smudge on her glass or a scratch in her view;
the
more aware she became of the world, the less clear it became.
Each
scratch cut something from her, every smudge made her forget;
she
struggled against blindness, from the black hole pushing her down.
She
battled, she looked death in the face, until I came, and I took her place.
She
disappeared, she became lost; she did it so I could exist but at what cost?
By
Ashley Smith
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