"Free." Poem by Sarah Lynn Jackson

Truth be told,
It was a silent room filled with things of old,
Her eyes so bright from the moons gleam,
As she ducked her head from a broken beam,
Silent and quick steps she leaves the room and steps outside,
She's never been alone or away from anyone before; so her palms grew sweaty and her stomach went on a roller coaster ride,
So she jogs to the nearest stream - while she runs her hands through it, it was icy cold, Colder than silver or gold,
It was a still and silent except a few ribits from a nearby frog,
Also faint barks from her Grandmothers dog,
Walking further away from her Grandmothers mansion the air becomes like fog,
And in the distance you could hear a squealing hog,
At last she finally felt free from all her Grandmothers stern demands,
Even her yelling at her eldest brother to become a young man...