Roller Coaster
I watched her as she lay in repose,
Stretched out on the bedroom floor.
There was certain stillness about her,
A kind I'd often noticed before.
I longed to ask what her thoughts were,
But I knew there would be no reply;
Silence is often her answer, you see,
And I always ask myself why.
Yet I know she's trapped in a fairground
Of roller coaster rides,
With screaming heights and cowering lows;
So now behind silence she hides.
As I left her there and walked away,
I heard a whimper escape and run free.
I knew it would be another cold night
Without sleep; none for her or for me.
© Christine Magee
