The Tale of Black Rosita


There was a girl child
Black Rosita
who never once did seem to cry
she always smiled,
a flash of dare.
She broke her foot once, running free
in the forest darkness
that embraced the town
and still she did not make a sound or cry.
Her lack of tears drew idle words
From simple folk
who thought her wicked.
One day a troublesome witch
spun a spell
to make the girl child cry
and so the tears began to flow
like a river with the dam removed.
They flowed for one, then two years
and then some more.
A salty ocean began to rise
around the girl child,
Black Rosita.
She was drowning in a spell of tears
but knew not what to do.
The dark angel of time had been listening
growing tired of tears and cries.
He exhaled a mighty breath of air
and life boat to her path.
Black Rosita
swam with arms so weak
toward the boat,
then clinging with clawed hands,
as only a drowning fool can cling,
too tired to get in, but still with breath
Black Rosita
drifted back to shore,
a mollusc attached to an empty vessel
but anger in her being.
The crying had stopped,
the spell was broken
and the villagers awaited
Black Rosita

to be cont.

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