A year has past,
And I am no longer the same.
But neither are you.
You were the girl,
Who turned from autum to summer.
With golden radiance,
I found myself looking to you,
As a beacon of hope,
In my dark sea of sadness.
You showed me the magic
Of paper and pen
And I was instantly enticed.
With every word you wrote
Every comment you spoke
I felt hope,
That I could learn
To voice my concerns
And finally earn
The right to speak, in turn
Now I don't see you write,
I don't hear your words
That resonated within me.
But it's okay,
Because you're doing something greater
Than just helping me.
You're creating beauty,
For the world to see.
And I am just as guilty.
In my metamorphosis,
I became complacent.
But a little medal around my neck,
Reminded me of the gift you gave me.
So those words on paper transformed
Into the sounds of my own thoughts.
You helped me find a voice on paper
But now it's become words
Oct 7, 2016
Oct 7, 2016 at 1:41 PM UTC
A year has past,
And I am no longer the same.
But neither are you.
You were the girl,
Who turned from autum to summer.
With golden radiance,
I found myself looking to you,
As a beacon of hope,
In my dark sea of sadness.
You showed me the magic
Of paper and pen
And I was instantly enticed.
With every word you wrote
Every comment you spoke
I felt hope,
That I could learn
To voice my concerns
And finally earn
The right to speak, in turn
Now I don't see you write,
I don't hear your words
That resonated within me.
But it's okay,
Because you're doing something greater
Than just helping me.
You're creating beauty,
For the world to see.
And I am just as guilty.
In my metamorphosis,
I became complacent.
But a little medal around my neck,
Reminded me of the gift you gave me.
So those words on paper transformed
Into the sounds of my own thoughts.
You helped me find a voice on paper
But now it's become words
