She was always rushing here, there and everywhere
And I cannot help but wonder where she rushes too,
To the next barrier, the next argument, her next death
She never stops, she never rests, to where I never knew.
***
She felt old from the day of her birth, old in her depths
Not old in the way of man kind, not young when born,
Old in the way of the universe, her overall higher power
Old in her soul, battered and torn, harrowed and worn.
***
It’s obvious she’s never known the feeling of being young
She was born an old soul in the body of a babe, a child,
By the time she was a teenager she was hollow and tired
But as a fully grown woman, she took chances, she’s wild.
***
She has no care for your opinion, your judgement of her
As she doesn’t belong among the two legged landed ones,
There are times throughout the day she’s out of her mind
Totally insane, basking and burning in the rays of the sun.
***
She never complains but I know she argues with her demons
And I can only imagine how fiery these fights get in her head,
Here she silently fights her most devastating bloody battles
If you mistake this as weakness you’ve obviously been misled.
***
Take my advice my friend, when you are lucky enough to meet
Study carefully, the far off look in her eyes, what do you see,
Every demonic fight has left signs of their twisted wreckage
Another scar, another torn piece of flesh, but still she is free.
***
She is capable of endless love as it begins deep within her
A love you can swim in, it is that deep, that impassioned,
But sadly there’s always the ending, a selfless destruction
Although she stands by them, she’s strictly old-fashioned.
***
She shelters the outcasts, those homeless tormented souls
Giving them all of her, holding nothing back, good or bad,
As this is a character trait, common between fallen angels
Especially those torn of wings, living as land dwelling nomads.
**********************************************************
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****
Please click the link below my name to read more of my work. I would also like to thank you for taking the time to read this today and for all your support.
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Originally posted on Medium
About the Creator
Colleen Millsteed
My first love is poetry — it’s like a desperate need to write, to free up space in my mind, to escape the constant noise in my head. Most of the time the poems write themselves — I’m just the conduit holding the metaphorical pen.
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