She thought her fate would be different!
I thought so too!
Until our paths crossed.
On that head of black hair,
sat that same black bowl, with more cold drinks,
more than her sister hawked.
Those hands,
12 years old themselves,
counted figures older than they are.
Her voice,
echoed louder,
the same song her sister sang, 'Your cold drinks are here.'
IYETIDE
Read: Christian Poetry - Songy
Sometimes life doesn't go the way we want
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