She’s a child’s questioning eye
a ready smile set in a beautiful brown face
that looks serene but hides an all consuming loneliness
she’s victim of social changes
in a land where families are large and bonds are strong,
an unwilling exile blown by the storm of revolt
to a place not of her choice.
My family was rich she says
owned rivers, lake, land and forests,
but in the pedestrian world she lives in now
people think that she’s spinning a tale
and the loneliness in her eyes grow deeper every year
to the point where memory of a happy childhood
is the only thing that she remembers.