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Torn (standard:poetry, 473 words)
Author: WalkerAdded: Mar 10 2007Views/Reads: 1775/0Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
the thought of helping somebody whom you feel responsible for...

I met her for the first time, When she was only nine, And I had
completed my teens then, When she started playing in my heart within, 
Living alone, I was a long way from home, And each evening passed when 
her presence shone, Wearing torn clothes, darting about the pathway, 
Surely, I felt, she had something to say, But maybe was waiting for the 
precise moment. 


Each evening as I paced up and down the grass, She would come into sight
and just pass, And finally one day she gave me a fleeting smile, And I 
felt her within myself for a while, Her long, untidy black hair and 
large blue eyes Whenever met mine, took me by surprise, She was very 
slight and frail, a lotus in the marsh, Vulnerable to the heat, even 
rain on her felt so harsh. 


In a few days an acquaintance had been formed, My interest in her grew,
wanted to help her make it through, I told her to learn how to read and 
write, Overjoyed was she at the prospect of this new fight, My interest 
in her deepened surplus, My life became imbued with a new purpose, Two 
years glided away imperceptibly, I started feeling a new 
responsibility, Had the time to send her to a missionary school come, 
For in a censorious society people who agree to this are some, And 
finally her folks agreed after persuading a ton. 


Then one evening she didn't show up at the expected time, This I
perceived was an unlucky sign, Curious, I made way to her cottage; a 
humble mud hut, And there she lay trembling on a string cot, Exhausted 
by fever, eyes closed and hair unkempt, The fierce heat on her body 
indicated her time was spent. 


She recognized my touch and opened her eyes, Then took my hand in hers
on which mine warmly tied, She had given it her heart, And set her 
feelings for it totally apart, A gust of wind opened the door, A gleam 
of sunshine streamed in, Lighting up the wall, darkness no more, And 
her silence which lasted an hour, Made me feel she had left for the 
far, I said a few words but she didn't seem to hear them, We knew she 
was dying, the time had come, She asked, “Who will look after you?” 
“You will, I know you'll do.” 


Her old woman stood by me, She knew time was slipping away, And there
was no need for me to stay, But an urge didn't let me go, Even though I 
knew it was the end of the show, I took her hand and laid it down, The 
golden sunshine had turned brown, All the loneliness pressed upon my 
heart, The feelings, the evenings had been torn apart.


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