The sky was gray, the trees were bare,
I walked alone through halls of glare,
Where whispered words like nettles grew,
And silence had a sharper hue.
They jeered and laughed with hollow pride,
But none could see the tears I’d hide—
A quiet soul with hands held tight,
Afraid to speak, afraid to fight.
But stars are born in darkest skies,
And truth...
Continue reading...