She was always aloof from people, Shy to let you hold her hands, Those hands have been scarred from heavy chores, She's unsecured standing so close, Her face is like the earth patched by the sun, Her hair, dishevelled with split ends, Hungry for oil and nourishment. Her feet and toes were torn from harsh weather, Like they have been on an endless voyage. She fled from several foster homes, They have been a dungeon to her, She found no resting place there, Most nights she sleeps with half-closed eyes, Praying for the day to come with swift speed, Sometimes she hid in cold attic rooms. The streets were not any better, They were the abode of ravenous beasts, Desirous of having their share, They harassed and troubled her sore, More than once she has escaped from their grip, The shelter for the homeless was void of space, Not a home left for her to hide from the elements of weather. He came as a ray of hope, A knight out on the rescue of his lost one, Sunshine to her gloomy days, Dazzling light to her deepest darkness, He saw the latent beauty covered in sheaths of hard labour, And wraps of immiscible torture and pain, He was a prop and towering support, Leading her out of the maze, Bringing her radiance and joy, Emancipating her from the dark and dreary.