A scratchy whisper tingles
brushimg the lobe of her ear
echoing words of tomorrow
only meant for her to hear
fearing the voice, she yells
begging it to leave
entirely missing the message
she was to receive
never was she taught
meaning behind the voice
never told she was lucky
or that she had a choice
she walked an ancient path
alone, yet, well protected
learning in years to come
meanings of the unexpected.
©River 4/11
6 comments:
Goosebumps. I've got goosebooks. We must be sister-twins!
~ that rebel, Olivia
superb.
Nice poem.
My first visit to your blog, I will stick around.
Lovely!
ooo,,,love it! great message beautifully expressed, River!
Nice. If I had the gift of hindsight, I'd use it to retroactively develop some foresight !
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