The box cutter on the floor, mute body.
    metallic divinity odors the nose, silence speaks volumes.

Little pink bird, in a dull bluebird world.
     invisible cages, glaring eyes of inconformity.

Little pink bird, let out your voice, soar!
   Only to be met with resentment and scorn. . .

being different is beauty,
   but all you found was scorn.
     now they ask "why" but,
         -silence spoke volumes
             now you are safe in his arms
                be free and ıllıllı ŜｏＡ𝓡 ıllıllı