Ink and Lead
The changing of the times had left her with little; almost
destitute
She searched in vain
for a glimpse of the fulfilled life promised to her by unwavering faith; but,
only the memories of occasional happiness crept into her heart and mind
prodding her to move on
In her attempt not to
forsake them, she kept pieces of her life that held no value to anyone, but
her, a piece of cloth cut from the corner of an old handmade dress to remind
her from where she had come
A valued porcelain
vase painted with white and yellow flowers, she wrapped in velvet, and stored it away in a box that
one day would be found—relying on faith the
finder would understand the cause
She kept pleading,
soulful words written on scraps of paper, jotted down in fading ink and gnawed
lead as her life changed over time
Perhaps someday they
would be bound in hard sturdy jackets and protected from a valueless society
and the readers of her stories would come to know her, finally placing value on
the spirited words written in ink and lead
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