Her broken soul finds a home on the streets of old
recovering from broken dreams and lost loves told
In silence she walks, pushing her three wheeled cart
No longer looking to mend her broken heart
the silence she embraces as an old friend
she thinks peaceful thoughts wishing for the end
She is lost with no destination in her addled mind
The sun and wind will numb her pale skin again and again

Her teeth fall out and sores don’t heal
but that is okay she knows not the real
She walks the path each day trying to
remember the way of where and life of who

In the park she finds a half~ eaten sandwich
sitting on the bench she begins to munch
as the leaves fall in a sepia tone only she can touch

She keeps her silence close to her chest
As the winter of life touches her breast
Peace is what her lost soul knows
Pushing her three wheeled cart
among the many  cars row after row

Until she sleeps the sleep of the dead
She walks the path of life the paths of old.