In a World Full of Weeds

Let your hair flow,

Wink at the photographers,

Twirl your skirt around,

And be on your way.

You're as beautiful as a rose.

The natural light shone through the transparent window pane, letting me feel warmth on the left side of my cheek. Nails grasping my pale skin, my eyes wandered off to my mother. She was tucking an emerald strand of hair behind her ear, shifting slightly I asked, "Mother, when will he come back,".