Friday, August 04, 2006

Bonnie

Her underwear comes from
a communal pile
now.

She is told to face the
wall and her sandals
are aligned perfectly
outside of her cell
now.

She cries when she
reads letters
now.

She was kind
and filled with a
quiet kind of goodness
then.

All she wanted
was to be included
then.

We were too important
to be gentle
then.

And now she is
pleased when she
is allowed to clean
the toilets.

Now she is stripped
when her parents come
to cry.

And I would give her
a piece of my soul,
now,
if it would fill
one empty smile.

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