Scool Cleaner

In the dim light of the rising sun,
I strode across the turquoise green landscape,
And I froze,
A lonesome figure stood there,
I cautiously closed in,
Her face was clearer now,
Illuminated by the scarce light of dawn,
The cap she wore,
Blotchy mud stains visible on it,
Her old crinkly face,
Weatherbeaten yet,
Her eyes dark and misty,
Mystifying but somehow,
Sad......
Strands of brown hair,
And a streak of white,
Sprouting out of her mud caked hat,
An old half broken broom in one hand,
A rusting dustpan in the other,
Holding them with,
Shivering cold hands,
The sad smile on her face,
She slowly swept up the,
Fallen leaves from the night's breeze,
As the tears swelled up in her eyes,
The time she has,
Is getting less and less,
Limping from dustpan to trashcan,
Fighting a heart that is fighting back,
Her strong will crumbling,
As she collapsed onto the cold hard earth,
Gasping for air,
Thump......Thump......Thump......
A quick shiver and she was gone,
The old lady with the sad smile,
Lost forever,
Remembered by no man,
Except for the little boy,
Who saw it all.