cinnamon jacobs

The crying child

        The doors slam

         The cries desperate for help

       The pain in her eyes, the fire in her chest

Slowly she reaches for her protector 

only to be left with the sligh touch of finer tips brushing away, as the doors open she she\'s the light, but only shows the tears of joy down her cheeks, finally after days of the crying and torment, the anger all is held back by her cries