She was listening
To the chatter of the crowd
The accusations like bee stings
A pinch of pain
She was listening
To the praise in her awards
To the freedom in her laugh
The joy that mends her wounds
She was listening
To the fight inside herself
Reinforced by her surroundings
The joy has dissipated into doubt
She grew quiet
Her wounds weren’t mending
The bee stings turned into daggers
She is left for dead
She became silenced
Because no one believed a word she said
She had no breath left to fight
Their words became her
She continued on
Her thoughts consumed her, leaving her empty
Day, Night, Asleep, Awake
With no soul to care
She believed
A future she would power towards
A life she looked forward to
Maybe not today, but someday.
Apr 4, 2015
Apr 4, 2015 at 10:37 PM UTC
She was listening
To the chatter of the crowd
The accusations like bee stings
A pinch of pain
She was listening
To the praise in her awards
To the freedom in her laugh
The joy that mends her wounds
She was listening
To the fight inside herself
Reinforced by her surroundings
The joy has dissipated into doubt
She grew quiet
Her wounds weren’t mending
The bee stings turned into daggers
She is left for dead
She became silenced
Because no one believed a word she said
She had no breath left to fight
Their words became her
She continued on
Her thoughts consumed her, leaving her empty
Day, Night, Asleep, Awake
With no soul to care
She believed
A future she would power towards
A life she looked forward to
Maybe not today, but someday.
