Walk Again

Stray strands of yellow silver

cast too dark shadows

that cut like scars across

high forehead and thin lips.

Half-lidded windows

to a glowing soul look

upon dirty nails and calloused fingertips.

Cracked up pavement catch

heels of criminal height

and down goes baby

blue eyes and smeared mascara.

Slender hands move to catch

collapsing limbs, and bare knees

skid across cement.

A muffled cry of pain

and no helping hand to be seen,

Mettle raises herself up of her own accord

and walks again.