Jaye Marie and Anita Dawes

Is it possible to be born without a soul?

To walk through life backwards

Vulnerable to the talk of careless lips

Whispers like a constant mantra

She will amount to nothing

To struggle with the stories told about her family

Bad seeds, the lot of them.

Life had been messy

Fuelled by the downward thoughts of others

With no exit in sight

Lisa’s life spiralled deeper into the mire

The road ahead paved with dark shadows

Whispering, this way.

Lisa’s damaged mind had no positive thought to lean on

No shoulder to lay her tears

No one to help her find new courage

A dark blue pebble picked from the kerb

Kicked a memory back to mind

Of old magic, healing waters at Glastonbury

Her mother had spoken of before leaving her alone

Lisa returned home with the pebble in her pocket

A seed, hope like a flower growing in her mind…