B4 Columbus |
by Wordless |
She no longer speaks her native tongue Her culture cremated urn broken, ashes scattered. Her hair and eyes once midnight now fade to colors of sand and sky. Her reddish brown skin now stained with bleach. Her soul no longer sings of sunshine Once a young virgin until raped now an aged whore of the world. She is a mute paraplegic staring with dead eyes looking out the window of what was. Reminiscing on how it used to be she hangs her head and cries ashamed of what she's become. |