Faeries

She sees faeries

And talks to her herb garden.

And everyone laughs.

She feels colors,

And says there is magic in the moon.

And everyone laughs.

She never hurts anyone

And loves her oak tree like a child.

And everyone laughs.

She always helps a stranger

And the neighborhood strays adore her

And everyone laughs.

She sits and cries

And mumbles to the shadows,

And no one cares.

Once her hair was long and bright,

Now it is a matted mess

And no one cares.

She used to dance among the trees,

Now she can't find them

And no one cares.

Dreams of magic fill her days;

Magic she can almost touch.

And no one cares.

The day she died her herbs did, too.

And her oak tree bowed its limbs.

A single candle burned in her window

With naught there but the cats.

And no one understands...