Little Girl (C.B.#13)

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When their voices raise,

the little girl likes to imagine

that she is strong enough to take it,

daring herself,

to be strong enough to destroy it.

Imagining,

that instead of weakness

she has stars in her blood.

Imagining,

that instead of fear

she has fire in her body.

Wishing,

that she can ignite the night

instead of hiding in it.

Wishing,

that she could torch the world around her

before it burns her alive.

But the world is run by her parents

and their loud voices

that shatter every dream, every wish.

They don't care

that she's only a little girl.






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jewel said...
Feb. 25 at 7:29 pm
I love this poem. I'm crying actual tears.
 
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