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The Dawn

She tries to smooth out the clay features,

remembering how he used to feel.

All she ever does now,

is pray to God.

And wish her sculpture were real.

They said it would get better with time,

but, while waiting for the dawn,

she's being robbed of her prime.

All she wants is to feel him.

To hold his face in her hands, 

and stay very still.

She prays,"I need to feel safe again,

I need him, even more then before,

I need his cheeks to be warm,

I want to stop feeling ill."

But when she presses her lips to them,

it's only clay.

And her tears fall down his cheeks,

leaving long grey, shiny streaks.

She desperately wants to capture him again.

'Cause where there was a soul.

there is now just a hole.

She gave her whole world to love him..

Then in the night, her dreams do stir,

His kisses soft,

his arms around her.

Leaning in, he whispers in her ear;

he knows, 'tis only him she'll hear.

"Hope on it's sweet chariot,

needs for faith to call for it.

Don't look for me in cold wet clay, 

find me in the warmth of day.

I am every breath you take in,

I am the hurried, brushing wind.

I am the sun that warms your nose,

I am the grass that kisses your sweet toes.

Look and you will find me here.

Now go, live, and don't fear."

Carrie Croteau · 91 days ago
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The Dawn