The wheat flowed with the wind
For after months of growth, she could finally spin
When the orange moon came once again
She was hidden and benign
But the big man still cut her down
So she let herself drown
The frost came as fast as the leaves went
And the wheat we knew was all spent
She lives this life of constant repeat
Waiting for the day when it is she who reaps.
The stars know her story
They’re the only one
She lives in her own glory
But still longs to run
To go away from this field
Where her life began
But they see potential in her so this is where she stands
Maybe someday she says
Speaking to the moon
The mother watches her lay
In the field and pray
Pray to a god who no longer listens
Begging for mercy from the man that beckons
I am becoming my parents
She tries to say, but is silenced
Silenced by the people who said they’d protect us.
So she is cut down once again
The stars above no longer see her spin
She cries at her life and what could have been
But she waits for more courage to try to leave once again
