Old Woman of Fault

         My pains cause by my pleasures...Nothing but my mental thoughts of grey storm clouds that keep me company. Much older now...Knowing I can't change or fight the injustice of life. I waved the white towel high in the breeze...for the eyes of unseen...Always close by watching me. Heavy buckets of broken handles...Questions lie with no answers, I can no longer shuffle or hide this ton of rumble I've kept locked inside. My mental capacity is full...Red light warning about to explode. When crippled inside it's hard to run & hide. A cane they beat me to defeat. A wheelchair they chain me, imobile are my feet. Hands that stay fumble & are slow...Hard to hold a pen & let the darken ink flow. For a women who is old...Her looks are gone...But her mind never lost it's way. The one's who loved me are dead & gone...The one's who think they know me wish I was dead & gone. For ignorance is fear & cruelty is blame. A pointing finger...A blind eye...A judgment is a function of their personality...Narrow is their brain. Tired eyes that close...Clear are the pictures of truths hidden away...The audience in front on me regiens my thrown which I lay. Alone I was born...Alone I shall die...A must needed rest of silence of sound. These bullets of water, pierce my lungs, escapes my air. Drown dive of bottomless unknowns. Bed of soft sand awaits for me...Treasure chest of truths of unspoken words sink. For their voice can no longer wake or speak.