I saw You. Inside your self, but outside of prison.
In the distance a blur of busy; accompanied by buckets, mops and laughter.
Head down, your hands gripped tight to the reality of the seat.
As I neared thought I spied a tear? Must be a cold.
You start to sway your legs as a child might, a joy from a forgotten page.
Unknowingly you bend to pick up your spoilt dampened tissue.
A clatter of keys, and a bang of gates. You are back.
A colouring of shouting voices and embraces; you wipe your face of incidence.
Engulfed by sea of friends, fleetingly your spirits are lifted.
I hope for a moment of clarity, perhaps today remorse.
You must know that same brief time that put you here, could be the key to change.
Be all of you; with all deeds and life to gather up and step on.
If not today, tomorrow, a year or many, most friends will go.
Perhaps life may not know or care of them but this is nature and not judgement.
But you will always have that little girl who never left your side.
Lift up your feet and swing.