Ashley Smith: 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, no one can live happily without it.

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 abyss pulling her down.

She battled, she looked oblivion in the eye,

until I came, and I took her place.

She disappeared, she became lost;

she did it so that I could exist but at what cost?

By Ashley Smith