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dust off the shadows beneath the grey facade 

venture in through crusted corridors

treasure is unearthed for the one who cares to listen

she yearns for her story to be told

take the young girl’s hand as she leads you through the forest

away from angry voices, embracing leafy limbs             

gentle, wind-puffed kisses caress her hidden bruises

exposed by the moonlight, revealing secret sins

listen to her song, composed by fluid fingers

polished ebon notes on weather-wrinkled parchment

an unfinished symphony swelling to crescendos

echoing the rhythms within her ageless heart

watch her performance, commanding centre stage

making love to her audience with tear-stained smiles

bathing in the limelight, she wraps the crowd in stardust 

a million tiny goosebumps, frozen in time

honour the survivor who ceased to be a victim

of toxic, broken beings – angry puppeteers 

rising from the ashes of shame to self-respect

her voice no longer muted, her soul not chained in fear

breathe in the fragrance within her wilted petals

silver leaves shimmer as she dances in the sun

look a little closer, beneath the grey facade

perhaps you’ll see her beauty 

and mine, for we are one

Micki F

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