Her voice

She was someone the world thought strong,
A light unto others, a dear beloved one,
But it was all veneer and under it all she was as hurt as the rest,
This light shone only on the outside, it could never touch her dark heart.

Her smile so loving to others, was just another lie she put on,
Her clothes, always immaculate were just specially equipped armour,
Able to protect her from most of life's pleasures, while on the inside she was soft,
She always was afraid it would all be pierced one day and she would be lost.

Each day her strength and love was put on, like her clothes, like her smile,
Each day she would walk out into the world, seemingly unafraid of anything,
But each day she would know the lie, know the falsity and inside cut herself again,
Her garden of mauve petalled scent, wilted under their years of harsh truth bared.

Her dreams were never fulfilled for her, the dream of her perfect life,
She couldn't bare the thought of having them shattered upon mocking laughter,
So always it was buried deep inside, lost in the falsity, lost under the covers,
While her voice so sweet and crooning, broke each night from the tears she shed.

Now no one knows what those dreams truly were, or where they could have led,
No one knows what truly went on in her head, lost in her dreams and battles,
Her control never broke, her battle never eased, and never ever forgave,
But what do we call her now I ask you foolish or brave?


But what does it take to make a dream come true?
What does it take to stand up and fight?
What does it take to know what is there? what is true? what is right?
What would her voice say now if she could but whisper one word?
Would she just once let her voice speak truth or let her dreams fly free?