She speaks to me fondly
of passions and talents,
of guitars and stars,
of angels and stories written years ago.
She talks about her past,
Her present and her future,
She talks about her drunken stepdad,
And how much she misses her mom.
She speaks to me fondly,
In bright colours red, blue and yellow.
About love and hate,
And her demons.
She speaks to me fondly
with such breathless intensity
then stops short.. and
apologises
for speaking at all.
Her words turn a shade of grey,
She speaks softer now,
If at all.
All because somewhere in her life, someone she loved broke her heart
by ignoring
her beautiful words
and telling her to
shut up,
keep it down,
nobody cares.
People aren’t born sad.
We make them that way.
People aren't born wise.
They learn from their mistakes.
People aren't born broken.
Society breaks them..
All Writing.Com images are copyrighted and may not be copied / modified in any way. All other brand names & trademarks are owned by their respective companies.
Generated in 0.05 seconds at 8:39pm on Nov 05, 2024 via server WEBX1.