When was the last time you heard a story? Not just any story, but one that left you craving for more.
I remember when I heard her story, tears rushing down my face.
Life so short, a constant race.
So broken and alone somehow managed to always say grace.
Yet nothing seemed to change in her eternal maze.
Abused and mistreated, the days of her life
But she still had in her so much fight.
Grew up in a dysfunctional home,
From here and there her family always roamed.
Make new friends, leave those behind.
New home, new school, once again left to find.
Raised in an unconventional bubble.
May sound good to be a little different.
But all it led, was to lots of trouble.
Built a structure made from rubble.
No firm foundation, no clear direction.
Her father had to go to work, put food on the table.
Made his presence like a fable.
Never knew when he might appear.
Her mother strong as they come, took the role of two.
Tried to help her out as she grew.
But her teachings weren’t always the best way.
Never gave her the desire to stay.
People around but she always felt alone.
So, she grew up sad.
People started to ask if maybe she was a little mad.
Maybe this girl was a rebel.
Starting throwing words, small pebbles.
Little words became great stones.
All these hits created an immense concussion.
Started losing herself.
Got sucked in by others thoughts and ideas.
Got her repeating the Ave Maria.
Walking a line so pure, so holy.
While all their souls long ago past dirty.
Then she meets that one person.
The one they all think will turn it around.
But her life started turning loud.
Got mixed in with the wrong crowd.
Got distracted from the important things in her life.
Stopped putting in a good fight.
Put that bottle in her mouth.
Light that cigarette, going south.
Got wrapped up in a game of legs.
Can’t remember what was in her head.
Tossed around in many beds.
Know she stands in front me.
Tells me she wants to be set free.
She’s ready to escape from her cage.
Has to let go of all this pent-up rage.
I smile reassuring, tears still on my face.
Admire her soul, so brave.
Ready to leave her grave.
Fighting to get back all she gave.
Face the world with one last grace.
© 2015 Marlin Alicea Fernández, Soul to Ink. All Rights Reserved