She’s just as withdrawn and winded
Being kicked along
By the cruel trudge of time

She is honest and drab
And faithfully morose
Engulfed in her past
By the blare of her war-time trials

She has carefully aged
To savory perfection
At home in the ether
Somewhere, I’ll roam

On a day of great fortune
On a kindred
And merciless trail
Through the night

If you enjoyed this poem, you can find more like it in my latest book, The Slums of Nightfall. It’s available for purchase on Amazon and  Createspace