No More (a poem)

Her words were invigorating,
her eyes of a colour not definable,
sometimes brown, sometimes a shade of green jade
with a sparkle of gold.

Her laugh that of  a twelve year old,
not holding back when she finds something amusing.
But sometimes that of a woman
in the winter of her life,
feeling content having lived the life she had,
looking at a picture of her latest grandchild.

Her hair curly and the colour of sand on a beach,
the morning after a stormy night.

Her eyes were made for truth and honesty,
not concealment.
But her mind played tricks on her,
making her wonder
if her heart was to be trusted,
bewildering her beautiful soul in the proces
and pushing away her loved ones
feeling left abandoned
she tried to escape reality
more than once.

Every once in a while
telling herself she was succesful
until reality caught up with her
repeatedly.
Until it was over
and the urge to escape
was no more

===========================

Want to read (more of) my short stories? My author page: Terrence Weijnschenk at Amazon