Mockingbird

Like a keeper of the silence, she moves with little haste

Dropping hints here and there, trying to give you a taste

Of her reality, as she won't just spill the truth

After years and years of tormenting, she was robbed of her youth

Mistakes she never made affected her the most

As she stood beneath the angry hand of her mother, her harmful host

A bruise to the face causes suspicion, but a bruise beneath the shirt does not

Clever, this witch, brewing her next disease in her poison laced pot

Calling at the latest hours of the night in fear, as I can hear the quiver in her voice

Laying awake every night awaiting the next phone call, asking for a choice

Begging for a distraction from the pain she had to endure

Waiting for her feathers to grow back to beat the wind like her mother's hand beat her

Those piercing green eyes set on something more than the bars of this cage

Time is her only enemy now, as I wonder how she displaces her empty rage

Thinking about her every day, hoping she will find what she needs

Asking myself if I should have done something, despite her wishes, did I succeed?

Did she make it safely from the burning building? or did I encourage the flame?

I wish I could see her now, so she could see that I am ashamed

Every day I live wondering what she is thinking, if she needed me and I never showed

The curtain closed and she was left standing there alone

I close my eyes and dream that maybe she is dreaming of me too

But my reality is so much different now that it doesn't have you

I try to reside in my silence, and let you find the one you are looking for

But remember who loved you unconditionally and still does, next time you look in the mirror