She’s a million miles away.
Destruction and beauty captured.
Art and frustration as raw as the burnt ground.
No one’s taking note,
No one’s listening.
Fenced in, she leaves her mark on the walls where others have been.
Void of any use, in this the USA.
Apart from sketches, where will she leave her mark?
Kicking the sand, she knows she’s alone.
Caving in, she walks on.
By Felicity Fox