Mee
In a world of colors, loud and bright,
She watched with wonder, day and night.
A little girl with eyes so wide,
Who held her dreams but couldn’t confide.
She’d sit on the porch, her feet in the dirt,
Watching the world spin, feeling the hurt.
Not that she knew what hurt meant back then,
But a longing grew deep in her heart again.
The world was full of sound and song,
But she never knew where she belonged.
Her thoughts were loud, yet her lips stayed still,
A heart full of stories, but words wouldn’t fill.
She saw the stars, the moon’s soft glow,
In her mind, she’d let the stories flow.
A brave knight, a dragon to fight,
A magical world where day turned to night.
But her pencil stayed idle, her paper so clean,
She couldn’t make sense of the world in between.
For the words felt heavy, too hard to find,
A thousand thoughts tangled in her mind.
At school, they told her to write and speak,
But the page was empty, the words so weak.
Her friends wrote poems, their stories so neat,
And she sat in silence, afraid of defeat.
She drew her castles, her mountains so high,
The rivers that ran beneath a sapphire sky.
She drew the creatures from tales she'd read,
But the words never came, so she tucked them in bed.
Her mother would ask, "Why don’t you write?"
But the little girl would just smile, tight.
Her dreams were locked in a secret place,
A world she could never quite embrace.
She dreamed of writing, of stories untold,
But the world around her was too bold.
The teacher said, "Just write it down,
Don’t let your thoughts drown in a frown."
Yet every time, the paper would stare,
A blank sheet, cold and unfair.
The stories fluttered in her heart so bright,
But the words would hide, shy of the light.
She wasn’t sad, not really so,
Just wondering how her words could flow.
She'd dream at night, and in the day,
But her voice would always turn away.
Still, she kept dreaming, her mind a vast sea,
Of things untold, of what could be.
A silent dreamer, a quiet soul,
Who would one day find her words to hold.
And though she didn’t know it then,
The day would come when she’d speak again.
Her silence was not weakness, but space to grow,
In time, her voice would learn to glow.
But for now, she lived in her quiet way,
A silent dreamer, at the start of her day.
In the stillness, she learned to soar,
Waiting for the moment to find her words once more.
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