Every day as she passed by she could smell the food

It was that smell that stopped her like a truck hitting her

Made her weak in the knees and totally insane

She dragged herself on but licked her lips

One day she promised herself, one day

I will have a full meal

She barely knew what that meant

Maybe some hot soup before she knelt

To say her prayers which mostly were

Something she wanted, she asked God for

A shawl to keep her warm as she trolled and toiled

Sometimes a pot to store some water

Her siblings were dead and she struggled

Hoping, dreaming one day she would

Feast on a full apple and not just the core

Food was just folklore

She would not give up and tomorrow she would pass

That window with wonderful smells

It was her strength, her weakness her window of dreams
girlarmonknee_sepia65_000

Dream

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