The Writer

Words fly across the page,
Ink sputters to compete,
With thoughts that race for recognition
The soul pours into scribbled lines,
Of honesty that startles.

Timid, shy and fragile heart,
Head kept down and hidden,
How does it feel to once be loud,
To shout the feelings to the page,
To be heard instead of listen

Voice that stammers in a crowd,
Once too many times,
Hurt and trampled on the ground,
Pain builds and weighs on words unsaid,
Why can’t they understand?

Run to peace, to sanctuary,
Notebook and a pen,
Home for what the world won’t see,
Release for feelings trapped inside,

Maybe now they’ll hear you.

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