A golden voice
wrapped in an anomaly;
a voice that had no label,
and could sing anything.
Always questioning
why anyone would listen
to her;
not yet realizing,...
And when she sang,
she did not just sing,
she painted and sculpted
with harmonies and melodies.
Her voice entered your ears,
and filled your soul with hope,
your heart with love,
and your mind with beauty.
But deep inside,
lurked a pain
she kept hidden
until it was too much;
It ate her body,
it whittled her bones;
it tried to hold her down
and scare her.
Death stared into her eyes
and tried to silence her.
She sang, and her golden voice
raised us all up.
Her body has left now.
But, her voice remains.
Give her an apple, she thinks she has a diamond ring.
She gave us her art, and we have
hope, and love, and beauty,....
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