She’s the one
Locked deep inside,
With angry thorns
Pressed into the
Softness of her heart.
Every day words
Fall as a torrent of
Shrapnel bloated pride.
With each insult said
She tucks hope into
The depths of her soul,
Waiting for spring to soothe
Her frostbitten spirit.
For summer to thaw
Walls that breathe
Only lies.
Spring creeps forward
Gentle rains trailing down,
Smile cracking from the
Weight of her mask.
Fingers of sunlight
Tiptoe under the door,
Unlatching the bolt.
Shy blossoms unfurl,
Uncertain wings catch
Summer breeze and suddenly
Freedom! Flight! Song!
She had a voice.
Feet safe, roots of hope
Starting to grow.
I wrote this poem for a project in my literature class. It's based on the character, Janie, from the book Their Eyes Were Watching God.
