A Broom Against Messes Poem by Delilah Miller

Nicely let him know,
my mother insists.
Silly woman doesn't have a thing,
and 'tell him' she presses.
For all the lies he told,
I'll piece my efforts together and sing
like a persistent canary
or sighing Rapunzel, unraveling her tresses?

She talks but I see the night and go,
just to tell the stars my wish.
I want to be a simple gold ring
glittering at the side of lovely dresses.
Sometimes, I wish for a scream
to overwhelm the quiet I have to sing
with a soft open throat,
swaying like a broom against messes