POEM: Internment

INTERNMENT
2010040841 - c2010 WLC

I'm well aware of strengths I have
And quite aware of weaknesses
I know this love I have inside
Too well I know of speechlessness

My fingers, then, are like an army
Marching in a symphony
Pouring out the things I can't
Express without their tympany

For in my throat, a struggling bird
Long imprisoned in its stir
Riding out the storm and waiting
For its freedom to occur

What if, perchance, it waits for naught?
What if it is forever caught?
Never once to truly sing?
Never once to say a thing?

This is my weakness, my desire
I cannot sing, yet still aspire
To feel the easing of release
Permit expression, inner peace

So joyful would her singing be
If only once outside this cage
Her voice could open and be free
Instead she's caught within her rage

~nv