The black dances along with the white
The dirt fencing with the pot plants
And bricks pushing the pavement out of the way
One cipher that cannot be deciphered

Trees dead like the starring role in a funeral
The plants skimpy like her unseen body
Her old young body hanging by a thread
With physical features shown like our deepest secrets
Another cipher that cannot be deciphered

As the dark cloth covers her like a blanket of onyx sky
Her hand grazes the flowers like the sun graces the horizon
Dead fingers touching the life of earth
And only her eyes are showing
Her low, bright eyes gleaming in the darkness
A cipher refusing to be deciphered

“Help me,” they scream
“This is not my choice,” they blubber
But they cannot be heard
Their only way out has been congested like a nose during a bad cold
Because all that is seen is three girls walking
Not screams for help
But three girls

Is that all that’s to be seen?
Or is there a scene that cannot be seen?
A cipher that cannot be deciphered
Because we are shown what we should see, not what we need to see