Outcast Ephy
She struggles to open her eyes in the morning light
Her face all swollen and rugged
Her hair smells of yesterday's booze
Hands that define despair
A mouth that twitches to every bird's chirp
I want to judge her
But my subconscious points an accusing finger at me
I can't talk to her
People will label me an outcast
Yet I so much want to help
Am torn between two worlds
Of being the sunshine that she needs
Yes, Ephy needs sunshine
Or being that little girl that the villagers admire
I sit and watch as she moves to the backyard
Crawling rather than walking
Her back is in massive pain
Yet she has to move
Her kids are barely old enough to understand her pain
"Mama, I want tea," screams one
"Mama, my clothes are torn," yells another
I want to run and embrace them both
I want to cry out for help
From some sort of god
Ephy doesn't believe in God.
As she pulls the water bucket to the fireside
I can see she desperately needs help
She tries one last time
And tumbles over the bucket
Falling to the floor with a thud
She screams and passes out
The kids are beside themselves with shock
Last night's events sure hurt Ephy
Yet she has nowhere else to go
I then see light at the end of the tunnel
I know who to talk to
Not outcast Ephy
Someone else.
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