One day I'll stop writing bad poetry, but I hope it won't be for a long time.

[sadnessofrain]

She's lost again.
One of these days,
She will not find her way back.
She'll have to walk
Among the fires in the street
Searching alone
For a place to call home.
People will pass;
Few will stay.
Until eventually
She does not find her place
But makes a new one.

For now she is safe
In the comforts of the world.
Unaware
That the breadcrumbs will be eaten
The smiles will fade.