She gave her heart in quiet ways,
In whispered words and a gentle gaze.
With every smile, she hoped they'd see
The kind of love that dares to run deep.
But every time she tried to fly,
They clipped her wings, then passed her by.
She trusted hands that felt like grace,
But they let go without a trace.
Each “I’ll be here” turned into the wind,
And promises were paper-thin.
She stitched her soul with silent cries,
And hid the hurt behind her eyes.
Still, she stands with aching grace,
Feathers torn, but not erased.
Her wings may tremble when she sings,
But strength is born from her broken wings.
©heavenecho
H