it’s been awhile since i’ve last spoken.
they said they liked my voice
and my innate stride through life.
when the turmoil trembles
and the tribulations teeter,
they say look up and hear the preacher
with words of wisdom
cry out in prose.
but nowadays, ever since i was pricked by a rose,
my songbird tones have died down
because the chirping atmosphere
no longer motivates me.
i used to have so many words to say
but i locked them up because they were too precious—
too rare.
i grieve for my lost voice,
but it can always come back.
for now i hum myself a lullaby
someday i’ll be ready again to share my words.
Nov 1, 2020
Nov 1, 2020 at 9:10 PM UTC
it’s been awhile since i’ve last spoken.
they said they liked my voice
and my innate stride through life.
when the turmoil trembles
and the tribulations teeter,
they say look up and hear the preacher
with words of wisdom
cry out in prose.
but nowadays, ever since i was pricked by a rose,
my songbird tones have died down
because the chirping atmosphere
no longer motivates me.
i used to have so many words to say
but i locked them up because they were too precious—
too rare.
i grieve for my lost voice,
but it can always come back.
for now i hum myself a lullaby
someday i’ll be ready again to share my words.