Muted Voices
Frankie Fuller·Thursday, October 29, 2015
One side was green
The other was dry and withered
Which side of the fence did they belong?
Always on the outside looking in
Yet never wanting to enter
Once on a last day of summer
One become a single rain drop
A beautiful blackish blue
Where the crows would always sing
In the lonely trees
An unknown era was lost in time
Methods of stepping softly
And pretend,were first developed without end
As the blackist of blue
The birds would step back
As they,the humans would step forward
The days became shorter
The days became dim
The days became new
Once the most beautifullest
Women in the world was blind
But when others once made comments of her beauty
She felt as if their words
Was of a meaningless nonscense
Because she knew the world
Was full of pathological liars
Yet she always had affection
For the one with the muted voice
As a seeing eye dog
He once guided her away so faithfully
From the market of slave auctions
One side was green
The other was dry and withered
Which side of the fence did they belong?
