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by Sheree Kirby

I found a faded picture and barely recognized the girl
Her head held high, eyes twinkling with certainty
A ticket will be plucked from a barrel
As it whirls to a stop on the school cafeteria stage
The girl is not surprised when her name is announced
To claim the prize she knew would be hers.

I barely recognize the woman in the mirror
Her face tense, her cheeks etched by the loss of loved ones
Her sparkle dulled by disillusionment, wariness, weariness
The towel drops to reveal a highway of scars, a roadmap of fear.
At night she dares not dream of a prize, only survival
And that she mourns most of all.

Sheree Kirby is the editor of the Survivor's Review