Shoulders hunched, you walk purposefully along the forever flowing road eager to find shelter from the wind,
seeking and searching anything exposed with its harsh, unforgiving claws.
To your surprise you see a small diminutive figure in the distance,
rocking slightly in the direction of the wind.
As you ponder the thought as to why this person isn’t looking for shelter,
you notice that this person is in fact a small girl.
Scantly glad in rags, her long flowing hair covers the scars and bruises of her body,
the faint glistening of her cheeks is not of serenity but of long dried tears,
crystallizing in the wind.