at the corner of what could have been and what must be…

Her eyes were shades of what could have been,
Hushed blood gushing through tired veins,
Calloused thoughts of perpetual yearnings,
On a rocking seat of dismay, descending. 

Her every ties, her every lies, stood naked,
taunting and staring wantonly before her.
Of things that should and should not be,
Sighs and whimpers would be all that remain. 

Restless she becomes and wanting she remains,
Reminiscent of rains and sunny days,
She stood up and raised a fist, accepting
“I am ready, I am, all that I could be…”