She was there, wild eyed child
of the sun
Running through the trees
warm summer breezes lifting her chestnut
hair, dreaming of being loved.
Hiding from ghosts of that city
she still dreams like a child
traveling through green meadows in her
Golden child, tainted past
she laughs and cries herself to sleep
most memories too hard to bear
Those shapeless memories
haunt her still
the child remains though
hidden like a diamond in the sand.