The Gray Lady

She is old and wrinkled. Her skin is shriveled and gray. With hair that is as bristled as an old broom, she is no fashion model. Clothes hang off her slight frame and her shoes are worn through. She lives in an old dirty house, all alone. Children and grandchildren are nowhere to be found. Her life is hard, full of rain and sorrow. No angel has ever smiled on her. Nobody knows but she loves to sing and dance. Her cares are of no concern to others. She has a voice that is scratched like a favourite old record, from years of abuse and smoking. Her eyes are brown pebbles worn by time. Children run from her, they think of her as a witch. If she could she would have a library full of books, but she is destitute. She is old but she still has dreams. Her dream is to travel the world. Jewelry adorns her every limb, but the gems are fake and the structure homemade. Not once has she felt lucky. Soon, she will die and no one will know for she is old and alone.