Scarlet Soap

Light shed a tear upon windows ledge
a glistening jewel on the surface edge.
As the rain would mingle and interfere
a secret withheld, would not disappear.
Year after year that little girl spoke
of a broken child concealing lost hope.
An eternal journal etched an epitaph
of a bated hatred drowning her laugh.
The aftermath bathed in blood and bone
left splinters of silver, scarring the zone
of a broken woman concealing lost hope
in a tub of suds and scarlet soap.

          Carey Milton