Small One

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I was always one
To hold on too tightly,
To clench my fists
And clutch the words that never
Wanted to stay.

That might have been
Why I was so quiet
And why I was so scared of gentle voices
That coaxed my own.

I was a child
Among children
Whose voices were too big for their entire bodies,
While my quiet words
Barely even filled my mouth.

They all told me
That I should speak up,
But I was too small
And too free
To listen to what they said.

If someone had told me
Small one, stay free
I might have remembered
To never grow too big.





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