In the Room

In the room

I have met the caged birds around me,

that have had their feathers plucked fighting just to be,

shoving truth into letters of words to bring them out.

The blondes at the front,

who argue constantly,

but truth is they both need each other mutually,

showing exposed bone while keeping the tears hidden,

they pull out their binders to express the ride they have ridden,

of shame, sadness, abandonment and betrayal,

they all turn to words as God as their savior,

because they know there is another like them in the crowd,

and they want to free them from the chains that they are bound.

The brown eyed pair on the side,

there is something different that they suffer,

the need for the love of the fake hearts they follow,

they stand like columns of opinions that others mutter,

and with the breaking they throw out the same poison that they swallow,

but they too turn to words as God their savior,

because they know there is another like them in the crowd,

and they want to free them from the chains that they are bound.

The gray shirt in the middle,

is the quietest of them all,

and when she speaks she is hushed by the members in the room,

but in stories she finds her voice and a place where she can fall,

into the arms of a companion who will listen to her neverending doom,

and she turns to words as God her savior,

because she knows that there are others like her in the crowd,

and she wants them to be free from the chains that they are bound.

And lastly is girl sitting in the back,

the one I treasured most, the one I fear about,

she excels at life on the paper form,

but she's broken down when she becomes a human form,

she has walked on a rope throughout her whole life,

and one day I pray that she is finally on the ground,

because she is love, strength, and others strife,

and she deserves to be the one that is found,

so she reads stories, and keeps them close to heart,

and hopes that one day she might not be torn apart,

so she turns to words as God her savior,

because she knows that there are others like her in the crowd,

and she wants them to be free from the chains that they are bound.

I, I am in the middle,

looking all around,

and the faces that may fade from this very ground,

but I look at them again,

I’m so proud of what they have done,

and I tell them that I love them before the setting sun,

and I too turn to words as the God my savior too,

because I know of the others hidden in the crowd,

and I want them to be free from the chains that they are bound.