M. A. Ceilidh Poet Free verse

I AM

I am but a single shuddering whisper trapped beneath the shroud,

a lingering fluttering flicker of self indulgent doubt.

I am but a small one, an itty bitty insignificant flake of dust,

among the sunlight.

A little soft, though not soft spoken,

a little daft, a wee bit broken,

much too hardened, yet, too young

to be outspoken 

instead of “spoken for” or

“in love.”

I am but a girl, spirit frayed and bittered hag

softly and constantly being reborn.

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