Empty faces

Naked emotions standing

Stagnant on these blank pages


Cloth this poem with life

Feed her bones with laughter

Sing her your songs of freedom

Complete loving her, lyrically

In the ways her mother never did


This poem is an orphan

This poem prays in terror

This poem is on her way

To becoming a full moon


This poem is not lost

Just like all the other poems

This poem is just here, waiting

To be fully dressed with life.