In the Perspective of Great Men
She wore her hair down even when it was dirty. She kept her face hidden from those who forgot to dream. She was a miracle in white; a reflection in your window. The kind of woman that stood behind a cause. She stood beside the ones she loved.
She ran through fields of sunflowers, wheat, corn, grass, and trees. She loved the wind and it understood her well; it knew her intimate desires.
“I want to be free,” she would tell the trees.
“I only do what you ask of me.”
She climbed through the world like a bird climbs for hunger. From the tops of trees she dives her beak deep in the ground. She ruminated for some laughter and a bit of nostalgia, but only received what she couldn’t see around her. She had so much passion, but the world kept on smashing it down.
With her last breath, she choked out the cardinal confession. “I want to be free,” she said softly aloud.
And as she gasped with her dying breath, I walked towards her solemnly and said, “I only do what you ask of me.”
