The White Lady

A flowing garb,
of wispy silk,
white as soft foam,
which skims the shore

She does not smile,
they ask her why,
the same old story,
of broken heart

Now you see her,
and then you don’t,
now she scares you,
and then you laugh

She lingered here,
the very world,
a cruel mad house,
which caused her pain

~AJ

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