They would not admit it.
Taking away everything
That made her part of this world
Gave them sense of deep pleasure
And morbid victory
Over something they could not have
Something they hated
Something she carried
Who gave her that thing?
They had reasons to do that
They spoke of her flaws
But she had been a stain on their wall
Long before the anger
From the first day she spoke
And first day she wrote
This was a perfect chance to place her
And show her who she was
Dependable, small, senseless, weak
Mute, rude and completely unnecessary.
She chose not to contemplate this
And lived by the unlocked doors
Until few drinks spoke
Clearer than reason could ever
Revealing the old box
No one dared to talk about
That made the new vision strong
And past present in her dreams
Reminding her the truth
Had been loud all along.
She had to take care of it
Far from broken home
Awake in blissed silence
Consoled by the sky
Protected by its sword
Outspoken and small
Put aside with her truth
No one dared to talk about.
No one knew what she saw then
Now no one will see what she knew.
