She stopped next to the Road

She stopped next to the Road -

Where I lay covered in glass -

Her hand outstretched - She beckoned me -

Away from where cars pass. 


Her hand was grey - It matched her hair

Her dress and shoes also

No color but for eyes of Black

And smile white as snow -


Her beauty lie within her Youth

But Age was plain as Day -

She spoke no words - As we marched on -

That little Girl in Grey -


She could not see - That much I knew -

As Sun gave way to stars -

The Crash - The Blood - It all was real - 

And yet it seemed so far -


I felt as if I knew her

But could not place her name -

La Chica de los Muertos -

Without a Scythe - Or Cane -


I never could quite grasp her hand - 

I turned - I could not stay

And always Her I think about

That little Girl in Grey -


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