Her caged tongue
had so many songs left
For all the words she knew,
loneliness was all she drew.
No one understood what it was like to be her,
with a meek disposition, it was always yes ma’am and no sir.
Invisible she stayed, wandered she did,
until one night she stumbled upon a kid.
Who saw her with pleading eyes,
and she knew she was the one to be wise.
Just an orphan left to die in the cold,
from her simmering well, she grew so bold.
She’d been quiet all her life,
but his abandonment slit her through like a hot knife.
That night she lifted her voice for the first time,
to let the cold world know its committed a crime.
God and the angel’s heard,
and to answer, they send a little bird.
To guide them on their way,
to bigger and brighter days.
© privatethoughtsmadepublic. 2018.