Fire burned.

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She laid down in the wild out
Dirt,
In a bed of mud
Where rain poured its venom
with vengeful coy
But she- she, fire
Undying, un- giving
Burnt with unmatched valour
Setting water aflame
She hurt, broke
But with style and passion
She fought to ashes
Till the rains washed her off
And they mourned,
Oh the skies mourned
Carrying her musk through
So everyone knew
That she, fire, had burnt to earth
But no one saw it
No one saw the gleaming eyes
Of the flames that licked ice
Off the rain drops as she burned
That she- she rejoiced
With each ash she shed
That she had finally been noticed
For the first time, since.

**

© The Short Black Girl, 2015.

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The Rain.

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Picture: Courtesy of Photobucket.

**

The rain patters with mighty fury,
Upon my ocean of worries,
It strikes, without dismay,
Sending shivers through my feeble frame,

I curl away into time,
Afraid its tears will taint my cry,
The rain, it’s pouring down on me,
But I won’t let it stop my grief…

**

© The Short Black Girl, 2015.