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Who is she?
She's been here again; who invites her; when she leaves where does she go?
I've asked a few of our regulars but they all say they don't know

I never see her arrive nor hear her speak; sometimes I feel it's a shame
That she's here among us so often yet no-one will tell me her name

Tonight as I glance her direction; I notice that she bites her nails
And her hair hangs greasy and limp; her complexion is hollow and pale

She's standing alone and deep in her eyes; I can see the battles she fights
The struggle; the fear and heartache which bring her here night after night?

I decide tonight will be different; I'll go over and tell her my name
But where do I go now I've realised ~ She and I are one and the same?

Martina Boyce.

By Wee Badgen

© 2009 Wee Badgen (All rights reserved)


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