She speaks,
but nothing is said.
She cries,
and a river forms.
She slams her fists,
until she hurts.
She covers her ears,
but hears all.
She tried to warn them,
but she was ignored.
She left home,
and didn't want to return.
Now she sits alone,
wondering why her angels never came.
_____
Semi-random... i just need to write...
Silver Moon Poetry
Poetry is what gets lost in translation ~Robert Frost~