She was, always, in the wrong.
The wrong path. The wrong friends.
The wrong choices. The wrong dress.
The wrong dreams. The wrong job.
Wrong … no … not the wrong children.
Just the sometimes-very-difficult ones.
When her every action was judged
So she chose to listen
To no one,
But the small call
Of her soul,
And the small arms that wrapped
Around her legs
When she reached
For Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt: widdershins in 75 words