MUZZLED
Let her loose In the oneness of a gander and a goose Let her choose She knows her don'ts and dos Who is who to decide who is who? The screams are in her throat Her tears are on the road Muffled, but we are hardly muted Our minds go where our feet can't Even with blindfolds, we still see what we want Like a tree by the bank, we are watered by our hopes When tears flow, they tell only one of two things They either tell of the joy that has defied words Or the hurt that has gathered like clouds Even rivers that dry up have hopes of flowing again when rains will come