I gave up writing years ago.

When I was told I wasn’t worth teachers’ time,

When the pen was ripped from my hand

As a reminder

As a reprimand

To never write again.

 

It’s a lie when I say I never cried

The cycle continued

With plastic smiles and annoyed sighs.

“Just don’t give writing another try.”

But I tried and tried.

I cried my words onto paper-

As a testament to my pain

But it was always thrown away,

So I gave up my dreams again.

But then that all changed

With a warm smile and a kind face

Who greeted me with a new concept-

A concept called another chance.

Another chance to free my soul from its cage;

I was a bird with clipped wings told never to sing.

A chance to dream and write again;

I was a bird with its wings given back.

The cycle broke and so did my cage.

A pen was back in my hand,

And I knew I could write again.

 

So I took my chance and flew

To the peaks of the mountains

And the bottom of the sea

Where I sang every song I could-

Afraid it would be ripped away from me

But it never was.

 

Because I was finally freed

By a teacher’s belief in me.

I was rid of cages and armed with wings

And I began to write again.

I gave up writing years ago.

I was caged with my voice locked away.

But then I was freed.

So here I am,

Living my dream once again.