My Song

For most of my days
my song was gentle
quiet inoffensive
like leaves in 
autumn beautiful 
but painted with sorrow

years, months
days, turned and turned 
mostly I was 
polite took singing lessons
from appropriately educated men.

When hours started moving
faster in order to remain 
standing 
I CAPITALIZED 
SHOUTED 
Singing very Loud and Long

enough to hear my own Voice.
In the winter of days,
I finally began 
to write the song
for myself.

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