My pen follws a rhythmn

Only she hears

Secret beats of words,

Flow through her ink

I am only an innocent bystander,

To the truth she will speak,

But my truth,

Covered in weakness and doubt,

She dances,

From line to line,

Giving a voice,

That mine is never strong enough to say,

I watch, amazed by her bravery,

Learning to stand tall,

In my truth.