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Dreams MAG
She sat at a scarred, dented table,
Staring down,
Looking at two-day-old coffee stains,
But not seeing them.
She concentrated instead
On the images going through her mind.
She remembered ...
How sweet he used to be,
How he would gently push her hair
Back, away from her eyes,
And whisper how much he loved her.
Regretfully, she wondered ...
What had happened?
Sweet turned to sour,
What was gentle,
Now cruel,
Whispers of love,
Now hollers of hate.
Suddenly,
She seemed to see the coffee stains.
She looked down,
And saw the dents on the table,
The most recent impressions made
By the cup of coffee he had thrown.
He had thrown it at her,
Two days ago.
Pieces of glass still lay shattered about the table.
Shattered ...
Like their love,
Like her body,
And like her mind.
She knew ...
She couldn't deal with his rage anymore,
What could she do?
The question swirled through her mind,
Like a tornado through a cornfield.
What could she do?
Where could she go?
Everything,
She had given to him ...
Her savings,
Her life,
She had quit her job for him.
The clock chimed,
Echoing through the house.
She jumped at the sudden noise,
Interrupting her silent reflections.
She glanced around.
Her eyes fell on a piece of copper,
Gleaming in the light from the window.
A penny, dated 1993.
She had graduated from high school that year.
Such dreams she'd had!
Dreams of a family,
And of a white picket fence.
Plans, to go to college,
To become a nurse.
She glanced around ...
None of her dreams,
None could be reached,
Not here.
She looked at the penny again ...
She picked it up,
And walked out the door.
1993 was not so long ago ...
She could,
She would,
Still have her dreams.
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