She sits there on a stool
A child too young to contemplate
But is she merely sucking thumb ?
Or pondering an uncertain fate ?
An orange cluchted in hand she fails
To venture confrontation with her eyes
Against the wall behind her
Face down, a sleeping canvas lies
The eyes that saw her then
Say more than words will ever
But only time knows what the girl
On the stool in her life will endeavour
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