Hair whips across her face,
unpainted tears roll down ruddy cheeks.
Her dress dances around her small body
and the pink fabric catches the wind.

Barefoot,
the cement beneath her feet stinks of
sweat,
blood,
beer,
and curdled urine.

A cry escapes her lips.
In the grey landscape,
it gets lost in the wind.

Her pain is tossed through the city,
crawling around buildings
and indifferent people.

Her fingers are uncurled,
she has freed it!
The red balloon flees
Up
into the smoky sky.

Suddenly a beam of sunlight
illuminates the red heart
and the girl looks up.

Her face gleams in the brightness
and the wind begins to whisper to her:
there is always hope.