Little One

You were so quiet before.

A meek, fragile sort.

Your art was never seen by other eyes

You thought they’d think you were telling lies.

You thought you were disgusting.

That what he did defined your voice to sing.

That what he did tore you apart

And now you’d have to restart.

You thought you were worthless.

That your eyes were penniless.

That what he forced you see made you a sinner

And that you were nothing but litter.

Oh, little one, how your hands grew stronger.

You lost your passion, but your heart hungered.

You couldn’t stop, not even for a minute

Drawing what gave you lyric.

You have a voice now.

A voice so strong some bow.

You paint with all your heart

Now wondering how you thought to part.

You shine bright like a star.

A sparkle in the ocean, set afar.

And as your mother holds you close

Your hope for the future shows.

 

This poem is about: 
Me
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