Young

When I was very young
I knew
The songs I’d sung,
The color blue.

I lived to love.
I lived to write.
I looked above
Into the night.

I would part
The winds, and pass…
And my heart
Was made of glass.

My face was pale
But filled with fire.
My feet were frail,
But they desired

To feel the day,
The soil, the stone;
Pretending they
Were not alone.

I saw myself
Inside the sky.
I was alone there,
So I cried.

The river mocked
The petty frantic
Way I thought
And the romantic
Way I talked
The dreams I sought,
The streets I walked.

I smiled, I sighed,
I wished in fountains
Almost died
Inside the mountains.

I lost my heart,
When I was young.
I fell apart.
My life grew numb.

I could not say
What filled my head;
The words that lay
Within my heart.
My lips were dry,
My fingers dead.

When I was young
I found myself,
Somewhere, hidden
On a shelf.

I breathed belief.
I broke in two.
I sighed relief
When I saw you.

- Written by Anna Williams at age 21