The Echo - Poem by Edwina Reizer
I heard my voice come back to me.
The echo of it yearned to be
free to travel and be heard,
free to echo out each word.
I yelled some sounds and patiently
awaited their return to me.
All was fine until I said
words to turn my face quite red.
Racy words that I'd never say,
words that could be called risque.
When they came back it sounded worse
than if I yelled a blatant curse.
Embarrassed to hear my voice repeat,
I closed my mouth and did retreat
away from the place that echoed me,
praying these words would not be free
to travel anywhere.
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