Beautiful...

There's a little girl sitting in the crowd
Listening to the Beautiful voices
Echoing throughout the space
Watching their Souls speak
Seeing the expression on their faces
She begins to dream of having that
She longs for the Power
She dreams of being Beautiful
Doesn't want anyone to cower

As a teenager, she sings along to the music
Her moma tells her to be quiet
says she can't sing
says don't even try it.
The girl laughs so hard
trys to push is aside
But really she's scarred.
Hurt more then words describe.

She had always dreamed of having that
She had longed for the power
She had hoped to be Beautiful
Make no one cower
So she sat their
Listening to the Beautiful voices
Echoeing in the headphones
She could feel their souls speak
As she herd her stomach groans

Six years of silence
Wont raise her voice for anyone
She has no confidence
She can't even sing to her creator
In church she stands
Moving her lips
With nothing comming out
She stands their
Listening to the Beautiful voices
Echoing throughout the space
She couldn't stop dreaming of that
Still longed for the power
How she wanted to be Beautiful
Couldn't make poeople cower.

Old lady on the pourch
Rocking in the chair,
Listening to the Opera
knowing life isn't fair
All she ever wanted
Was to sing out loud
She just wanted to raise her voice
In front of that crowd
To sing with everything she had
She still wanted it so bad.

She sits there
Listening to the Beautiful voices
Echoing throughout the space
She can hear their souls speak
Even without seeing their face...
still she listens.

Her daughter heard her last words,
The last ones that she ever spoke
She said 'Sing baby girl,
Sing, I can't let you become so broke.'
And the girl sang....
She sang with her Beautiful voice
Echoing so loud in that place
You could hear her soul speak
So loud in that small space

She sang and she sang.
She neve did stop.
She just sang her song,
the gift that SHE was given.
She sang loud, and she sang clear.
She sang to all
Without a fear
Everyone could hear
Could hear her song
No matter how short, or long.
They wanted to hear her song...
So she sang on.

I wrote this on 9/5/06, when I was really down, because I can't sing. My dream has been to be able to sing beautifully as long as I can remember. It's not just that I 'can't sing,' because I HONESTLY can't. My vocal chords got scarred up in middle school, making it so I am untrainable to sing, even though it is the ONE thing that I want, and I will always be jelouse of it. Everyone always says that I have other great qualities, but what does it matter? Most beauty is marked by a voice, and mine is less then beauiful. The only person I will sing to is the Lord, because I can feel beautiful while singing to him and him alone.

"I'll sing to the Lord, and the Lord alone."

Peace Friends.