four

the loudest i could muster, still soft as a sigh
words drowned in the noise of the world passing by
i’d raise my hand, only for then to brush it away
hopes, dreams left unheard, like whispers in grey

a girl who danced in the shadows of trees
who asked too many “why”s, and scraped her knees
”just a pass?” they’d ask, why can’t you be more?
but she’s been doing her best since she’s four

they said it was her, she wasn’t quite right
but how can she grow when they stole her light?
she grew tired from trying, her spirit worn thin
a world build for others, where she’ll never fit in

“too quiet, too loud, too angry - not enough”
every passing remark made her edges feel rough
and though she breathes, she wonders what for?
when she’s been at war with the world since she’s four.