I met a woman under fading lights.
"Virtue falls upon the vicious nature of time's enemies," she cried out
To the moving masses who ignored her in their narrowed lanes.
"A green light at the edge of the dock," she screamed at cliched criminals,
Who snatched hopes and dreams from the zombies outside Caribou.
"Actions don't exist in the mind of a word," she told the quiet lovers
Hiding in the dim lights under the rustling trees.
"The fine line is crossed in a modicum of minutes," she howled at parishioners,
Who allowed the seed of doubt to germinate in their hearts and souls.
"We all have our place in the ether and dance on the fulcrum of daily do's," she whispers alone
While looking over her scarred flesh.
You don't see her moving among you.
You don't hear her making her plight.
Do you notice the smell as you pass by?
Will you notice her now before the light fades out completely?
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