Email Poem

Your IP Address: 216.73.216.246
Your Email Address:
To Email Address:
Subject
Personal Note:
Poem Title:
Poem
They taught me how to bite my tongue,
Before my voice had even sung.
To shrink myself, to take up less
To fold my fire into a dress.

“Be quiet now, don’t make a scene.”
“Good girls stay soft, polite, and clean.”
So I became a silent shape,
A shadow bound in silk and tape.

I learned to flinch before I spoke,
To laugh at every cruel joke.
To hide my hurt behind my grin,
And tuck the screaming deep within.

They told me I was “too intense,”
“Too smart, too weird, too on the fence.”
So I became what they could bear
A ghost that smiled, with perfect hair.

My worth was weighed in who I pleased,
Not in the parts of me released.
And when I dared to dream or shine,
They dimmed me down to stay in line.

I wore my doubt like second skin
Each “not enough” tattooed within.
I held my breath to keep them near,
And swallowed every ounce of fear.

I told myself I didn’t care,
But every glance became a snare.
I built my cage with grace and charm,
And called it “safety" not self-harm.

And now I live with haunted grace,
A practiced smile, a steady face.
But underneath, I break and bend
Still waiting for the pain to end.

I long to speak, to scream, to burn,
To tear the script and not return.
To say, “This time, I won’t be small
I want too much, I want it all.”

But when I try to rise, I hear
Their voices buzzing in my ear:
“Don’t be so loud.” “Don’t ask for more.”
“You’ll lose it all like once before.”

And maybe they were never right
But shadows shape the way I fight.
I fear the sun, though I want the sky
I ache to live, but don’t know why.

'Cause when you’ve spent your whole life low,
You start to think that’s all you know.
And even freedom feels like pain
Like dancing barefoot in the rain.

But still I hope, beneath it all,
That I was meant to stand up tall.
That somewhere, past the noise and lies,
There waits a girl who still can rise.

Who doesn’t shrink or twist or bend
Who doesn’t break just to pretend.
Who speaks, who stays, who doesn’t cry
Who wears her wings,
and learns to fly.
CAPTCHA Preview
Type the characters you see in the picture
Required