Your eyes are all clouded,
but look to mine.
I will not forget your heart,
your sickness divine.
Uncover your scars,
and raise them up high.
Listen closely,
to their astounded cry.
'She does not hide them,'
they cry with glee.
You will look at them
like you look at me.
They will bow to your feet
when your lucid tones fly.
I will watch from the background
and let out a cry.
'She has done it,
They love her' I will cry from my heart.
They love you for truth,
for doing your part.
Their children are in your image,
their hearts are clear.
They want to be embraced,
to hear the crowd cheer.
All will find,
from watching you dance.
That all know the truth,
all have a chance.
If haze is pushed away,
and veils put behind.
A girl can see clearly,
through her very own mind.
An so I solute you,
Oh dearest of friends.
For trusting yourself,
to whatever end.
.
Author notes
Written February 19th, 2006
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I love it, it is just awesome!!!!!!! Hey... kick butt!!!!!!! I so play and love the oboe too!!!!!!! How long have you played??????? If you are interested I would love for you to be in my AP family, I always love cousins, and depending on your age, an older sister... Rock On!!!!!!! Go Oboes!!!!!!!
xoxoxoxoxoxoxo
Meg -
I love this poem.
Its beautiful.
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