Be careful, she could break with a touch.
Her skin is like glass,
And she feels too much.
Tread lightly, in following her trail.
She’s gone far away,
And her mind, it is frail.
Come quickly, or it may be too late.
Time waits for no one,
And time is our fate.
Talk softly, and don’t scare her further.
She can’t see you move,
Your face is a blur.
Be gentle… She’s meager and brittle.
Her body is old,
But her mind, it is little.
Be careful, she could break with a touch.
Her skin is like glass
And she feels too much.
K. Aldaya, 5/22/19
My Soul is a Lock Without a Key 