by Lucinda Davidovna

Created on: January 17, 2009

This gypsy girl who lives through song

Whose soul is in the trees

Who walks the gypsy road so long

With bended, weary knees

She skips and stumbles, sings and chokes,

It's hard to find her way

She lives a life that's so remote

That it just fades away.

Yet as she skips and spins and smiles

As her heart drops down low

She feels the toll of languished miles

She hears the earth below.

She wants to live her life in truth

And yet she is not sure

The lifetime stolen from her youth

Has made her so impure.

She falls down promptly to her knees

Her eyes lift to the sky

She opens her mouth, begs and pleads

Entreats God, "why, Lord? Why?"

Her tainted youth still fills her soul

She wants to peel it off

She wants to cry; tears make her whole

They send her song aloft

The road is hard, the toil is long

Perhaps she'll never know

If there's a place where she belongs;

Where she knows she should go.

Yet at the same time she expects

Something in her to give

As she peels back, admits, reflects,

Perhaps she'll start to live.

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