Prodigal Daughter

So here is a poem I wrote about a women I used to see every single morning on my way to school when I lived over seas. So comment me and tell me what you think (:

Virgin Mary

early in the morning

before the sky is painted

before the birds are tuned

she sits there

every morning she is there

standing tallin a little public yard

gazing upon

The Virgin Mary

such a small figurine

with a mundane expression

encased in a house of iron and stone

embedded in a rock

standing strong

as the commotion of the city

rushes by

just a few feet away

silent like the statue

motionless like the stone

on show for all to see

silent

motionless

the woman sitson a frozen granite bench

watching the tiny statue in awe

from my warm seat on the bus

full of uncouth children

her thoughts I wish I knew

to satisfy my hungerof curiosity

and as I look at my surroundings

the dusty seat

sand dirty windows

I wish I was that woman

sitting freely in the wind

but my daily rituals call to me

casting chains onto my mind

enprisoning me in a seperate world

so I must let this woman

and Virgin Mary be