I know of a beautiful, dark-haired girl. <br />I have never touched her hand, <br />But I have swooned at the thought. <br />We haven’t walked the lonely autumn streets <br />I love the best, the streets of poor children <br />Who smile through the gloom <br />As the leaves rustle down the broken concrete. <br /> <br />This lovely one has not yet fallen in love with poets <br />And the magical vision of poetry, <br />But she is on the verge; sadness is in her soul, <br />She has known childhood heartbreak, <br />The fragility of the inner-child, <br />And she is growing everyday into her goddess. <br /> <br />One day, she will see the beauty of a drunken poet <br />Who doesn’t want to hurt anyone, <br />The mysticism of a passionate heart, <br />The conviction of human dignity, <br />And the voice of one crying in the wilderness, <br /> <br />And then she will understand the one she doubts, <br />The one she criticizes, she will understand the voice of truth.<br /><br />Uriah Hamilton<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/she-will-understand/
