Treading on a thread
through a needle head,
said it was too sad
to paint life red.

Made a promise to a little bird
to let her dreams be heard,
took a turn heading for the top
didn’t turn around, didn’t stop,
took the praise not earned
left every little soul burned.

Felt the guilt of nothing kept
believed the little heart wept,
was amazed to see her fly
forgiveness hidden in the eye,
higher than one could climb,
only with a gentle chime.

Silent birds flew
to them nothing new,
all that was said true
now a dream in blue.