The Brave Silhouette

I spotted a silhouette by the river,
when worldly pursuits had started to lower.
Serene, pristine, tangerine-clad water,
not a lover in sight, nor a hater.
All there was that figure.
Pacing away from the scene I was,
noticing her, only to stutter.

Slight in figure,
robust in appearance.
Clothes tattered,
a rugged countenance.
All this was discovered later.
As of now, all she was,
A black silhouette by the river.

Approached her slow, she noticed quite late,
questioned her the obvious,
She threw a look quite mysterious.
“My mother’s dead, my father…
well, you need not bother.”

The look suggested defiance.
“My father is a pimp”, she exuded.
She had run away,
never to return.
“Will you be fine?”
“I’ll be alright.”
No expression, no anger, no love, no fright.
All she was,
A brave silhouette by the river.