Tuesday, August 1, 2017

CYNTHIA ANN PARKER

You once sat down and
I painted your face
A confusing portrait
Of a warrior in lace
And your thousand years’ stare
To some faraway place

How old were you then
When they marched on your town
Were you just a child                                     
When they burnt it all down

Did you grow up so quickly
With no gun at your side
Just a sad little girl
With nowhere to hide

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