An aged spinster covered in grime
Hobbling along to no music nor rhyme
Tired and hungry, beaten and dirty
She painted an ugly picture of dread

"Kind lady, gentle man, won't you
Spare me a dime for my first meal in days,
Or spare me a sip for I can barely speak?"
Doors swung shut, angry tongues clucked
She sank to her feet where shadows were ditched

Is there no one who'd just not stare,
Is there no one with a helping hand?
Is a broken woman meant only to despair?

"Why do you cry, my beautiful child?"
A kind voice spoke from everywhere
With her last ounce of strength she stole a glance
At the first streak of light in the years that've passed

A hand reached down towards her
Beckoning, stroking, wrapping her in it
It held her up like a porcelain doll
And cradled her like nothing worthed more

"Come, my child, into my embrace,
You shall never be hungry nor cold again.
Step into the light, let me see your face,
I shall adorn you with jewels that glaze.
I loved you before you knew what love was."

She lifted her heart to touch its sleeves
And bathed in a warmth that caressed her soul
Turning away from the blankets and feasts,
She walked away from the night and the blind.