So I left the rehearsal room
As quickly and quietly as I could
Knowing anger had no place
Amid a celebratory gathering
Walked half a block
Before yelling at the sky
When no one came to arrest me
I entered my car
Made a U-turn
As the 12-year-old still inside me
Wondered why the agreement had been voided
And the child’s voice echoed in the adult brain
The words that couldn’t be spoken inside:
But you promised this.
In writing.
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