time is a girl with light, whispy fingers —
a scent clinging to everywhere she lingers
like a hushed whisper uttered in thought,
or some old notion uttered for naught
a fair & flighty breeze
fleeing through the hiding trees
time is a girl who wakes up alone
uncertain who cast that first stone
little-girl time hides from her high, mighty throne
she's searching for the way to atone
cold & alone inside a torn, hollow home
time fled through a void, away from her home
time lost her way in the bramble & bone,
pebble & crumb swept up & away inside a cyclone
because she was torn & hollow all alone
she lost her way back to the place where hope shone
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