This place to go that place to see 

For many a year asked what she wants to be 

Never an answer for it brought raised brows 

Live in real life, remember now 

So she stopped answering and buried the dreams 

Under the rocks at the bottom of the stream 

One day a person who understood everything 

Said dig up the fear and let yourself sing 

The language, song, rhythm, cadence 

Only to you have to make sense 

She waited and thought of how this could be 

I can’t do this reckless thing only for me 

So she started in secret writing scraps of her heart 

And hiding them carefully because they’re not art 

What it took her a while to accept 

Was to give herself freedom from the prison she kept 



Author: ailsacawley

I have written since I can remember, devouring the stories of Roald Dahl under the covers by torchlight. I have always loved fairy tales, myths and magic. A good deal of the things I write has some truth in it. Others, not. I’m pleased you dropped by, please feel free to leave me a comment or if you’re kind enough to share that’s fine. ☺️

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