there was a child whose father
brews rice at dawn
before the eyes of her mother
she frowns and stands like a pawn

her neighbors grumble saying
her lips a peg for pots
but they've seen nothing
what's inside her hearts

at the age of ten she thinks
like a hundred times her age
she burns her brows at nights
while her siblings sleep in their caves

she stands in the dark trails
her childhood can't see or hear
but her heart alone sees
how much she wanted to be free                                                                                                            

there's a spring of tears
and a lake of fire
she locks her door
and hides her face inside

cyclothymia runs her blood, they said
but their blind to see
blind to see her in a bottomless pit
almost defied

and her mother only sees
a face with a frown
a frown not the fullness
of her heart with a crown

but her father looks into her eyes
his smiles washed away the frown on her brows
leaving no flecks but a face that radiates
she flows with the rivers and seas

he sees her depths and lifts his pride
his a shelter she trusts her back and her spine
and her face glows in the dark a luminous green
then she finds her way and strength to walk on her path

the child with a frown no longer exists
her mother stands still in wonders
the neighbors and their mouths are shot
as a well grown garden arise
full of flowers bees and butterflies